


Twenty-three Firsts

by flaming_muse



Series: Near Misses [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 58,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friends, places, and conversations: twenty-three firsts for Kurt and Blaine.  A <i>Near Misses</i> story.</p><p>spoilers for all of Near Misses, which includes elements of canon through 3x22 ("Goodbye")</p><p>set just after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/28246"><i>Near Misses</i></a> (and assumes "Facebook Official" as well)</p><p>This story is complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a direct continuation of the main fic, starting the morning that story leaves off (in late February 2014) and continuing until early May. The topics it covers could have been another two hundred thousand words, but instead of writing every little step along the way, I wrote twenty-three distinct firsts in this 'verse, from seeing friends to talking about certain topics. Some are very short, while others are quite long. As separate as the scenes can be, they all are meant to fit together to tell a bigger story with a clear overarching arc for Kurt and Blaine.

1\. Tina

" - which is _totally_ wrong for her complexion, but Rachel _insists_ it is the perfect dress for her NYADA recital because the drama and elegance of the flare of the skirt matches that of the song," Kurt continued. "Drama and elegance? All it needs is a poodle on it, and she'd look like she should be on _Happy Days_. But sometimes she gets it in her head that she knows best, even though it ought to be clear to her by now that she should be listening to _me_ when it comes to anything to do with fashion." He tipped his head thoughtfully. "And probably the rest of her life, too."

"Absolutely," Blaine agreed, his chin resting on his hand as he watched Kurt gesture with his fork over his unfinished plate of cafeteria curry. Blaine's own plate was nearly empty of its pizza and fries, because as soon as they'd picked up their trays Kurt had received his first imperiously demanding text from Rachel about the news of them dating they'd just broken over Facebook, and by the time the sixth in a row had rolled in Kurt had snapped back to something like his usual self instead of the softer, wider-eyed boy he'd been earlier; he'd rolled his eyes, shut off his text notifications, and had started to catch Blaine up on the latest news while Blaine listened and ate his own lunch.

It had been a wonderful morning of staying in bed and then taking the heart-lifting and surprisingly real step of officially announcing their new relationship, and Blaine was happy to be wrapped up in the scents of Kurt's borrowed grooming products and the familiar rise and fall of his voice as he talked across the table. It was like something both comfortable and totally new all at once. They'd eaten together countless times before, but he'd never felt quite like this, like a sticky little table bracketed by two plastic chairs could be the most perfect place to be on the planet because his boyfriend was there with him.

It was kind of amazing, really.

Blaine ducked his head and grinned down at his plate, his eyes still on Kurt.

"Here, let me show you." Kurt dug into his jacket pocket where it was draped over his chair. "I'm obviously right, but I want you to see for yourself."

"Okay." Blaine picked up one of his last remaining fries and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly while Kurt's attention was diverted. Even the french fries were better today. The whole world was better. All because of Kurt, all because he was dating Kurt. It was pretty cool.

He glanced over Kurt's shoulder and saw a familiar face turning in their direction across the dining hall. Tina broke into a huge smile when she spotted them, but when he lifted a hand in reply she shook her head and gestured excitedly between the two of them.

Blaine nodded even as his stomach flipped with a burst of nerves; she must have seen the Facebook update. She was the first friend they'd seen since it went out; Rachel's endless texts didn't count, since she was too busy berating Kurt for not calling her to give much other commentary about their actual status. Blaine was aware that Kurt's friends might not be so accepting once the news had sunk in. He'd put Kurt through the wringer, after all, and they were protective of him. Rightly so; Kurt was incredible, and he deserved someone who would treat him well and be kind to his heart. Blaine had done the exact opposite, even if he hadn't known it at the time.

They might not be as forgiving toward him as Kurt seemed to be.

Tina's smile just grew even larger, though, and to Blaine's relief and pleasure she gave him an approving thumbs-up before pointing back to Kurt, like she was trying to encourage Blaine's attention back to him.

Blaine raised his eyebrows and flicked his hand in invitation to join them, but she shook her head without hesitation. She mimed typing on her phone as she mouthed, "Text me later."

He nodded again in a promise, and she waved happily before turning away toward the food line. Mystified by and grateful for the positivity of her response, Blaine spun the salt shaker in small circles and watched her go.

"Here. Look," Kurt said, oblivious to Blaine's silent conversation. He slid his phone across the table. There was a picture on the screen of Rachel in a full-skirted, knee-length orangey-pink dress with a peter pan collar. The silhouette wasn't entirely unflattering, but the color was doing her no favors at all. Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

"If she were on roller skates, she'd look like a car hop," Blaine told him honestly.

"Thank you," Kurt said with some satisfaction. "I am glad but not surprised that you see that." He smiled over at Blaine and took another bite of his lunch. "And of course she doesn't want to listen, even when I found her some other options in that very same store. She's sure she knows better."

The indignation in Kurt's voice made Blaine smile that much more, because he loved that Kurt was so passionate about things. He threw himself into everything, now somehow including Blaine. He loved that he was included in Kurt's heart like that, that he hadn't messed things up but had made things _better_. "She has strong opinions," Blaine said. "It's part of the reason you love her."

"I know." Kurt poked another piece of chicken with the tines of his fork. "But it can be inconvenient." He took back his phone and started flicking through the pictures. "Especially when her opinions are in direct conflict with mine. There's no comparison with what _I_ picked for her."

"Mmm," Blaine said, content to smile and listen.

From around Kurt's arm, he could see Tina finding a seat well away from theirs, and if he felt bad about excluding her, there was something heart-flutteringly special about her approving of and respecting the intimacy of the two of them together at a table of their own.

They were a couple now. They got to be their own little unit, a wall around the two of them that set them just a touch apart from everyone else instead of being each on his own. He'd never really had that; Sebastian had run hot and cold on whether they were a Warbler power couple or two separate entities in public, as it suited him, but Kurt seemed to have taken to their new relationship like he was born to it, leading them to a two-person table without commentary, making the Facebook invitation, even smoothing Blaine's hair with proprietary fingers before they'd left his room.

Kurt might have been turned around inside the way he said he was, but he still didn't seem to be hesitating; he seemed to be moving forward in the same sure way he ran the rest of his life, and at least some of Blaine's nerves about doing things wrong had to flee in the face of it.

They both might feel turned around, but it felt like they were facing the right direction together now.

Blaine contentedly watched Tina get settled while Kurt searched for a particular photo. She snuck a glance over her shoulder at them, and she giggled when she saw she'd been caught by Blaine. She made a shooing motion toward Kurt again.

Blaine grinned at her, more happy than he could contain that Kurt was _his_ now, his more than anyone else's besides Kurt's family. This relationship was really his - to enjoy, to mess up - and they weren't hiding it or holding back.

It was just what he wanted. It was just what they both wanted, he thought.

And Tina, at least, was excited for them.

2\. Serenade

Blaine didn't have anything special to do in the Keynotes performance that afternoon besides sing his part and remember the simple choreography. He didn't have a lead, a solo line, or an interesting harmony. He didn't even have an extra twirl or funny move in this particular set.

Yet every time he glanced over at the wall Kurt was leaning against, Kurt was watching him, a proud smile on his face. Every time they finished a song, Kurt was clapping enthusiastically and not looking away from him for a second.

Kurt might love music, but there was no doubt that he was there first and foremost for _Blaine_.

Blaine was enough of a professional to know that he couldn't only sing to one person in a group performance like this one, so he kept his attention moving and his expression appropriate for a public show. Even so, he knew there was nothing wrong with singing _for_ one person, not when that person was there not because he had to be but because he wanted to be.

From his place in the backing semi-circle and from the depths of his wondering heart, Blaine spun and smiled and sang every note for Kurt.

3\. Rachel and Tina

Kurt rushed through the coffee shop doors two days later, brushing a light dusting of snow off of his hair as he scanned the room for his friends. He found that Rachel and Tina had staked out a grouping of deep chairs in the corner, their bags on the third to save it for him from predatory coffee drinkers, and he pulled off his soft leather gloves as he approached.

"What's the emergency?" he asked. "I had to brush off my TA after class to get here. Is it about the dress?" He sank into the chair after his friends cleared it for him. "I told you, Rachel, I have _options_ for you."

"There's nothing wrong with my dress," Rachel said, lifting her chin.

"There's _everything_ wrong with your dress," he told her, setting down his bag and unfastening his coat.

"Just because you - "

"Rachel," Tina interrupted firmly.

Rachel drew in a short breath and folded her hands in her lap. "This isn't about the dress," she said to Kurt.

"Okay," he said, though he was more than a little disappointed, honestly. He hated for her to make such a huge mis-step when he could help her. "So what's going on? What's the coffee emergency."

"It's a boyfriend emergency," Rachel said.

Kurt snapped his head toward Tina. "Something's wrong with you and Mike?" he asked, his heart in his throat. They seemed so _good_ together, so stable and in love. They'd been together for years. It was awful to think that it might not last.

"No, it's not - " Tina started.

Leaning toward him, Rachel talked right over her. "Kurt! You have a _boyfriend_! And you haven't told us all about it! This is an emergency!"

Kurt couldn't find his words for a moment; he'd come prepared to support one of his friends in a time of crisis, and instead he had been brought here under false pretenses to be chastened about not having rushed to their sides immediately?

"I told you," he insisted, taken aback.

"Facebook doesn't count. _Texts_ do not count," Rachel said. "And you've been dodging my phone calls."

He smoothed out the fringe of his scarf. "I've been busy."

She sat up sharply, pointing her finger at him. "And this is what we want to hear about!" she cried. "You being busy with Blaine! And-slash-or getting busy!"

"You don't have to share details," Tina insisted with a quelling look at Rachel as Kurt froze at the very idea of sharing such personal information. He'd always talked with them about their love lives, but he was really not sure that he had it in him to reciprocate.

"Yes, you do!" Rachel said.

"No, you don't," Tina said even more sternly. She tilted her head and smiled at him. "Unless you want to."

"Blaine isn't the only thing keeping me busy," Kurt said, though his voice wasn't as strong as he would have liked it to be. They had eaten every meal together since Saturday morning and had studied together in the Union the previous night until the wee hours of the morning had broken them apart.

Rachel's eyebrows rose even further. "Kurt Hummel, you know you have things to tell us. Now, tell."

Kurt cleared his throat and looked around for any sort of escape. Even if he could manage to get out of the coffee shop without Rachel jumping on his back like some sort of lunatic, high-pitched howler monkey she'd certainly stalk him day and night until he gave her at least some of what she wanted. There was no way out of it apart from going into witness protection.

Besides, he realized as the shock of the assault began to wear off, it wasn't the worst idea in the world to be able to talk a little about what had happened. He did have a lot of emotions swirling around inside of himself, and he knew as he looked at their eager faces that Rachel and Tina would be supportive. Maybe he could let some of it out in a measured and controlled way.

He dropped his hands to the arms of the chair and said, "I need a coffee first." Rachel shot him a suspicious look and seemed ready to argue. "I promise I am not trying to escape."

"I saw you thinking about it," she replied.

"I won't."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Maybe you should leave the scarf as a reassurance that you'll come back. I know you won't abandon it."

Kurt clutched at his second favorite cashmere scarf; there was no way he was letting it out of his reach. "You are insane," he told her as he stood up, and then he spun on his heel and headed toward the counter, his scarf flaring around him.

He took the few minutes it required to order and receive his drink to try to pull himself together. Rachel and Tina knew about his wonderful and horrible first encounter with Blaine, they knew about the cold shoulder treatment Kurt had given him afterwards, they knew about their friendship and connection as it grew, and Tina, at least, had more than an inkling how desperately he'd been trying to shield himself from hurt when Blaine had decided to date Peter. So he didn't have to fill in all of those details for them, which was something of a relief, because he wanted to tell as few of the difficult parts of the story as he possibly could while still getting some of this giddy confusion out of his chest.

He was definitely giddy, and he was at least marginally confused.

Blaine was just... amazing. Kurt had been aware of that since Blaine had taken his hand on the dance floor, an appreciation that had grown over the months they'd become closer, but Blaine was somehow even more amazing now that they were dating. He was sweet, he was kind, he was attentive, and he was really incredibly hot now that Kurt let himself admit it. He looked at Kurt like he was a dream come true, and Kurt wanted to be for him.

It was just hard to know what that _meant_. Kurt was an expert at watching old Hollywood romances bloom on screen, but he had no experience with dating someone he cared about. It was a little overwhelming to be doing it in the flesh.

He wasn't complaining, obviously, but it was still overwhelming. And the flesh part was the more straightforward side of things, because at least there he knew what he was supposed to be doing, even if it meant so much more with Blaine than it had with anyone else. At least in Blaine's arms Kurt felt like he was doing things right. It was when Blaine looked at him like he was the answer to his hopes that Kurt got nervous.

He knew he was a unique person with taste, talent, and strength, but it was one thing to be sure of that in himself and another suddenly to be in possession of a boyfriend who seemed to agree with him about it.

Again, he wasn't complaining. He was grabbing on with both hands and not letting go. This was just all so _new_ , and it had gone so badly for so long that he had these moments when he wasn't sure how it could actually be happening.

But, he thought, turning his head to try to hide some of the smile that threatened to overtake his face, it _was_ happening. He had a _boyfriend_. And he had friends who wanted to talk about it with him the way he'd always talked with them about their love lives.

Maybe Rachel wasn't quite so crazy to have called this emergency coffee gathering after all.

Accepting his latte from the barista, Kurt turned back toward his friends with an excited spring in his step.

Tina must have used the little break to speak to Rachel, because they were both sitting with expressions of interest and support but no longer with the manic gleam that had lit Rachel's eyes a few minutes before. Kurt had no illusions that it was gone for good, but if she could keep it under control for a little while the whole conversation would go a lot better.

"So Blaine and I are dating," he said as he sat. He sounded a little breathy, but at least he didn't laugh with the joy bubbling up inside of him.

Tina beamed at him. "Are you happy, Kurt?"

"What _happened_?" Rachel asked.

"Yes," he told Tina before taking a sip of his coffee to center himself to answer Rachel's question. He knew they wouldn't like this part. He lifted his chin. "I went to the Alliance dance on Friday."

"Oh, _Kurt_ ," Rachel said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair.

"Just to dance," he told her. "I needed to blow off some steam."

"As long as that's all you were going to blow," she muttered, and Kurt felt his cheeks flush hot with a combination of mortification and anger, because he was looking for friendship, not judgment. It was _his_ life.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea after all," he said, reaching for his bag.

"No," Tina said, reaching out to touch his arm. "Don't. Rachel is going to control herself, or she will be the one leaving." She looked over at Rachel and raised her eyebrows, daring her to argue.

"Fine," Rachel said after a moment. "Sorry. I just feel strongly that based on his history Kurt should have known better than to - "

"Rachel," Tina warned.

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay."

Much of Kurt's joy at sharing his feelings had faded during this little exchange, and he decided not to draw it out. "Anyway," he said, "Blaine was there, we had a huge fight outside, and he told me he had feelings for me."

"i knew it!" Rachel said, pointing at him again. "I knew you were attracted to him!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and tried not to get too defensive. He was going to have to live through this with her at some point. "Given that I'd already slept with him, that's hardly a huge mental leap."

"So you told him you felt that way about him, too?" Tina asked, gently nudging the conversation onwards.

"No," Kurt admitted and looked down at his coffee for a moment. "But he was drunk, and I... couldn't trust he meant it."

Tina made a soft sound of sympathy. "But you do now?"

Kurt thought of the way Blaine had looked at him that morning at breakfast, his eyes so gentle and fond across the table. He thought of the way Blaine had kissed him last night the second they'd stopped in his dorm room before dinner, his winter-cold hands on Kurt's face and his mouth desperate on Kurt's for a long, hungry moment before he'd relaxed all at once, brushed his smiling lips along Kurt's cheek, and let him go to get the book they'd come to find. He thought of the flowers on his windowsill and the new picture of the two of them up above his desk, sitting on a park bench on their first day out together as a couple. His own face was shining in that picture, but Blaine's was even more filled with wonder and happiness.

"I do," he said quietly. He tried to keep his smile in, but he couldn't quite manage, and his friends' faces lit up in response. It felt wonderful to see them so thrilled for him, especially about something romantic. He'd never had it before, and it made him feel even more loved by them, too.

"I knew you two would be perfect together," Rachel said, clapping her hands. "I'm so happy!"

"I'm glad you're taking this as such a personal accomplishment," Kurt drawled.

"Was he sweet?" Tina asked as she leaned in toward him. "What did he do to convince you?"

"Yes, Kurt, we want to hear everything," Rachel said. "We're your best friends. You're supposed to tell us. You should have told us _days_ ago."

Kurt couldn't recount the whole story, not when it was still so fresh and raw in his heart that he couldn't quite believe it, though he expected to get a _lot_ of mileage out of it once it had sunk in, but he really did want to share with someone how incredible Blaine was. "It would be a lot easier to tell you anything if you stopped interjecting,' he pointed out.

Rachel gestured him on with a gracious sweep of her hand.

He cleared his throat and said with another delighted smile he couldn't hold back, "He brought me flowers."

Rachel clapped again, and Tina said, "Are they beautiful?"

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "No, they're _awful_. They're the cheapest, ugliest bouquet I've ever seen... and they're perfect." He looked at them helplessly, just too overwhelmed to say more.

"Oh, _Kurt_ ," Rachel said softly, pushing herself out of her chair and wrapping him up in a hug.

"I know. It's stupid," he said against her shoulder, squeezing her back for a moment.

"No," Tina told him with a gentle smile. "That's love."

Kurt's heart skipped a beat. He tried not to get caught by the memory of Blaine saying he loved him, since he certainly hadn't even hinted at it again. That much could have been the alcohol, and Kurt's own feelings for other boys had never been wise or timely. "I - "

"Shh, too soon," Rachel said to Tina. She settled herself back into her seat. "So he brought you horrible flowers. What else?"

"We went out for the day," Kurt said, holding onto his coffee to steady himself. There was a dab of foam on the edge of the lid, and he wiped it off with his thumb. "All over the city. And that was perfect, too." He laughed again, thrilled and a little mortified by the intensity of his reaction to the memory of how absolutely flawless the whole day together had been. He felt like he was going to float up out of his chair.

Tina leaned forward and rubbed her hand on his knee, her expression as full of joy as he'd ever seen it. "We're so happy for you."

"I don't - " He shook his head. "I'm still waiting to wake up, I think," he admitted.

"Oh, please, if you were dreaming those flowers would have been impeccable," Rachel told him.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement of her surprisingly valid point. He might need to remember that one when he was questioning if this all was real. "You're right. He's just been a dream. I mean, he's still Blaine. He still likes mustard on his french fries and got into an argument with me just this morning about the unique talents of Kelly Rowland. Like she seriously outshines Beyoncé." He smiled down at his cup and then back up at them, willing them to understand. "But that's why it's so good. Because it's _him_."

Tina and Rachel exchanged a little look, and Tina said, "That's how I feel about Mike."

"And that's why I broke up with Jean-Claude," Rachel added, her smile soft as she watched him.

Kurt nodded. It was a strange new perspective for him, to have them connect their feelings with his. He'd been privy to the ups and downs of their relationships for years, but he'd never been fully _included_. He'd never been able to be, because until now he hadn't been able to share his own experiences back.

"A good relationship makes everything about the two of you that much better," Tina said. "I think you guys will be great together."

It might have been nice to bask in that bit of approval and support, but of course Rachel had to chime in, "Obviously they will be great together. I've been telling you that for _months_."

"Rachel," Tina said with a laugh.

"I have!" Rachel insisted. "I know, I know, there was _baggage_." She rolled her eyes, like it had been a minor thing instead of an enduring ache deep in Kurt's heart since the fall. "But I was _right_."

"Am I supposed to be thanking you?" Kurt asked her dryly.

"You should," she said, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her drink. "I've been trying to give you the push you so obviously needed. And I was right."

That was all of the crowing Kurt could take. The ground beneath this new relationship felt as steady as a rock beneath his booted feet, but he knew it was still paper thin with a lot of scars left on both sides. It wasn't obvious. It wasn't easy. It was fragile, and as good as it felt Kurt knew it had never been a given that they'd even get this far. He could feel his newly liberated heart beating with joy in his chest, but he couldn't take it for granted. He couldn't just get used to having his growing feelings so exposed and on view for everyone to see and critique, even his dear friends. He certainly couldn't let her take credit for the huge leap both he and Blaine had dared to take toward each other without any guarantees. It made him feel raw, like layers were peeled away, like he'd been out in the sun too long or exfoliated too vigorously with his favorite sugar scrub, and he had to push back. "Pardon me if I'm rarely eager to take advice from someone who thinks dusky peach is somehow on trend instead of just unflattering."

Rachel's eyes narrowed at the bite in his voice. "Not all of us are slaves to trends, Kurt."

"Not all of us refuse to listen to people with more knowledge and taste, Rachel." He brushed a piece of lint off of his thigh. "But if you want to look like some sort of demented diner waitress, that's your decision. I can't save you from yourself."

"Hey, we're supposed to be here celebrating Kurt's news," Tina reminded them. "This is a no-bickering coffee."

"Can we make it a no-gloating one, too?" Kurt asked.

"You're right, Tina," Rachel said grandly and set down her coffee on the low wooden table between them. "It's your turn to pour out your heart, Kurt. You've listened to us enough over the years. We are here for you."

Kurt found he wasn't as taken by the idea of sharing his inner feelings as he had been a few minutes ago. "I had no idea girl talk was so draining when you're the one talking," he said, not to mention _exposing_. These were his friends, not the jeers of the locker room or the pity of his former crushes, but it still didn't sit well in his heart to let it all out in the air. It was something else he'd have to learn to get used to.

"That's why when it's bad news there's usually ice cream," Tina told him with an encouraging pat on his hand. "Or chocolate. The sugar rush helps."

"I don't buy into that myth," Rachel said. "I mean, I've never needed to eat to talk about my feelings."

"You've never needed any help at all to talk about them," Kurt agreed, but he managed to keep it under his breath. He really didn't want to start a fight; he just needed to get out of the spotlight a little, and just thinking that made him stop in shock because it was such a foreign thought. _Out_ of the spotlight?

It was true, though. He didn't need a big light to shine on him - on them, now, on Blaine and him together - because it was about them. It was private. He was going to share things with his friends, because that was what friends did, but he'd always imagined he'd share _everything_ with them, and he realized that he didn't want to. He didn't need to. He was more than happy to make them jealous with Blaine's gentlemanly ways or to commiserate about the way rehearsal schedules for two performers could make getting together difficult. Some things, though, like the sweet light in Blaine's eyes and the breathy moan he made when Kurt kissed just under his jaw, those things were all Kurt's own.

And that's why they were so special, because for once something of another person was _his_.

"You look really happy," Tina said gently, and Kurt realized that he was sitting there smiling at nothing.

He bit his lip, tried not to show just how fast his heart was pounding, and said, "I am."

Rachel shot him a smug look, but she didn't say 'I told you so," so he counted it as a win.

4\. Rob

"Why, Mr. Anderson," Kurt said, his cheeks pink with cold from their unplanned walk across campus and his eyes flashing with something that made Blaine feel suddenly very warm, indeed. He reached out to sweep a few flakes of snow off of Blaine's sleeve. "You left it in your dorm room of all places? If I didn't know you so well, I'd think there wasn't any sheet music at all."

Blaine laughed as he fumbled the key in the lock, but the flirtatious tilt to Kurt's head made him think the idea of pressing Kurt back against the door once it was closed might not be too much too soon. Though he probably ought to get the sheet music first or else he was going to forget it _again_ , and he really did need it.

But after he got it, there definitely should be some kissing, because Kurt was, as always, very, very kissable and touchable, and Blaine would be stupid not to take advantage of it.

Blaine flung open the door and let Kurt precede him into the room, but his dreams of at least a little ravishing were dashed by the figure of Rob sitting cross-legged on his bed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, a huge pair of headphones on his head and connected to his laptop on the mattress in front of him.

"Oh," Blaine said, letting the door swing shut. Somehow he'd totally overlooked the fact that the room might not be empty.

Rob clicked on the trackpad and slid off his headphones. "Hey." He looked at Kurt with interest.

"Kurt, this is my roommate, Rob," Blaine said, his instincts kicking in. "Rob, this is - "

"Kurt," Rob said with a nod. "Yep. We met before." He shrugged. "You're the boyfriend now?"

Kurt's eyebrows raised, but he didn't otherwise flinch. "I am," he said, too calm, like he might be preparing for a verbal blow.

Blaine held his breath and wondered how this was going to go. Rob had been very accepting about him being gay, but it was one thing to have a gay roommate who went to parties and another to have a gay roommate with a boyfriend he'd almost been kissing right in the doorway, even if Rob probably hadn't noticed that part.

"Cool," Rob said. He went to put his headphones back on; he paused with them almost to his ears. "Hey, are you thirsty? We've got drinks."

"I'm not," Kurt replied. "But thank you."

"Cool. Help yourself, any time." Rob smiled at him and went back to whatever it is he was watching.

His pulse thundering in his veins, Blaine scooped up his sheet music from his desk and felt a heady thrill a little like he'd just brought Kurt home to meet his parents, only it had gone well.

5\. Review Meeting

Kurt adjusted his grip on the large plastic bin in his arms and tried to use one of its bottom corners to turn the lever handle of the door that led into their rehearsal space. He managed to open it on the third try, and he bumped his elbow against the door and knocked his bag off of his shoulder as he pushed through the doorway. It was just the kind of day he was having; it had started with him spilling coffee on his sleeve at breakfast and forcing him to rush back to change his shirt before his first class, and it would undoubtedly end with the hall bathroom flooding his dorm and a family of ducks taking up residence on his bookcase.

"Great," he muttered at the minor jolt of pain in his arm, but any further complaint was forestalled by finding the lights on inside of the room. He had expected to be at the meeting first, like he almost always was. Had someone else been using the space?

"Kurt!" Blaine said, and Kurt's sour mood couldn't quite resist the sight of his boyfriend hurrying toward him. His spirits lifted like a balloon floating up into the sky. "Let me help."

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked with a smile he couldn't hold back. He handed over the big bin to Blaine and got his heavy book bag back onto his shoulder. "I thought you were going to be running across campus to make the meeting on time."

"My class let out early, so I ran across campus to get here early instead to help you set up." Blaine smiled back at him, and the warmth in it left Kurt a little breathless. He wasn't used to someone being so happy to see him. He wasn't used to being so happy to see someone else, just to see Blaine's face after a day without him, without there being the pain of rejection beneath it. It felt both wonderful and disconcerting, like the world was a tiny bit off from what he had always known, but not necessarily in a bad way. "Where do you want this?" Blaine hefted the box.

"Oh, just out of the way somewhere," Kurt said, blinking back into himself with a jerk. This wasn't the time or place to get lost in his feelings, even if Blaine looked like a dream in that sweater. "I have to take it back to the costume shop when we're done here." He'd brought his work back to his room the night before to escape the fumes from the set painters that had seeped into his part of the building; avoiding the headache that had been starting to build behind his eyes it had been worth all of the hauling.

"Are these the hats?" Blaine set the bin down by the wall and opened the lid so that he could peer inside. "Wow. You weren't kidding."

"They're hideous." Kurt didn't get any closer; he'd spent way too long checking and reattaching spangles and bugle beads to the fluorescent headpieces for the mid-semester dance recital, and he felt like the colors were burned into his retinas.

Blaine straightened back up. "They really are." And then just like that, like it was the most obvious thing to do, he walked over to Kurt across the tattered grey, tape-stained rug in the dark little box of a rehearsal space and pulled him in for a hug.

It took Kurt's brain a moment to overcome his surprise, but his body knew exactly what to do. He got his arms around Blaine's back, closed his eyes, and breathed him in.

"Hi," Blaine said, the smile in his voice sending shivers up Kurt's spine.

"Hi," Kurt whispered his reply. Blaine had just _hugged_ him. It was okay, but they were in the theater, and he just wasn't used to -

"I've missed you today," Blaine said, just as easily letting him go and stepping back. "We're having dinner after this, right?"

Kurt nodded, the room tilting around him. A little dizzy, he let his bag slide off of his shoulder and set it over by the bin of hats. He began to unbutton his coat.

"Great," Blaine said. "I am in a curly fry mood."

"When aren't you?" Kurt asked, and Blaine just laughed in reply. Kurt drew in a slow breath and tried to focus back on the work at hand. He couldn't let himself get too distracted. "Wait a minute. Where are all of the chairs?" He looked around the room again. The handful of old, paint-spattered, uncomfortable plastic chairs that had been there last week were, in fact, nowhere to be found. "I thought the point of having our own studio was that people wouldn't take things." He sighed and pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. "No, I've been doing theater long enough that I should really know better. Okay." He headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Blaine asked, trailing after him in confusion.

"To get chairs." Kurt pushed through the door and stalked across the hallway to the little practice room there. Inside were two empty guitar stands, an upright piano, a microphone with its dangling cord hooked up to nothing, and nearly a dozen wooden chairs. "Here we are."

"But these aren't our chairs," Blaine said as Kurt began to stack them.

"They are now."

"But - "

"The performing arts is all about being generous with others, Blaine. Most of the time that means sharing our talents; sometimes it means sharing our furniture." Kurt hefted a stack of three chairs and raised his eyebrows pointedly until Blaine hurried out of the doorway and went to open the door to their room. "Thank you."

To his credit, Blaine was over his unfortunate bout of conscience by the time Kurt had set the chairs down, and he was back in a flash with the rest they needed. Blaine's face lit up in the most warming way when Kurt smiled his gratitude. They were just getting the seats arranged in a circle in the center of the room when the door gradually inched open.

Kurt watched with interest as a head slowly began to appear in the gap.

"Fuck it," Angelica said as soon as she peered inside and saw him looking. She stomped into the room, glaring at them both.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked.

"You've ruined my day," she told them both.

"But we haven't done anything," Blaine said with some confusion.

She pointed at him and said, "Exactly. Day ruined."

"But - " Blaine began.

" _Ruined_." Angelica dumped her bag on the floor.

"Give her a minute," Kurt told Blaine, moving another chair into place. "She's working up to it. She can be almost as dramatic as Rachel in her own way."

"Hey, wow," she said, then stopped herself. She put her hands on her hips and thought for a moment. "No, that's fair."

"Sorry," Blaine said with a laugh. "Please go on."

Kurt chuckled to himself and turned to the next chair. They were much nicer than the old plastic ones, sturdier and more attractive; he wondered if there was any way to keep them. There probably wasn't unless he wanted to bolt them to the floor or something, and even then some savvy tech crew member would just go get a wrench.

"You ruined my day, because I was hoping to catch you two in some sort of sexy lip-lock," she said to Blaine, "or maybe find you ravishing Kurt on the floor."

" _Excuse_ me?" Kurt said, narrowing his eyes as a chill went through his blood.

"Oh, don't get all wound up," she told him. "You're pretty, but I've seen this guy's arms, so I'm more interested in sneaking a peek in his direction." She nodded toward Blaine and threw her coat over a chair.

"Kurt has nice arms," Blaine insisted.

"Not helping," Kurt snapped at him, drawing himself up straight. He hated that he couldn't even enjoy the compliment because of the company.

Angelica slung her arm around Blaine's shoulders and said with a shark-like smile, "Please, tell me more about seeing Kurt's lovely bare arms. Start from the beginning. Set the mood. Were there candles?"

Blaine looked over at him with wide eyes, apparently a little slower than Kurt to see the danger beneath her words but quickly catching on. "Well, um - "

"We're not a carnival sideshow for you to ogle," Kurt told her and turned the chair he had been arranging another inch to the left.

Angelica gave Blaine a squeeze. "No, you're two pretty boys who have _finally_ gotten it together, and I'm hoping to take advantage of a few of the perks that come with it, because god knows the puppy dog moon eyes are going to be the death of me."

"This is not about you, Ang," Kurt said. He moved to the next chair.

"I thought everything was about me," she said, but she let go of Blaine. "Besides, you're like newlyweds. You're supposed to be fucking on every surface. You're seriously doing it wrong if you aren't."

"What we are or are not doing is our own business," Kurt told her.

"You are no fucking fun," she replied with a sigh. " _Carpe diem_ , Kurt. No, wait, _carpe phallum_!"

Kurt clenched his jaw and said, "Yes, because it's _so_ much classier in Latin." His skin felt tight, the muscles of his shoulders and back, too, and it reminded him of walking down the hallways in high school, when he had to be braced for a blow or a mocking comment, because he never knew where it would come from. Of course, now he knew exactly what the source would be, and there was no avoiding her, no matter that he knew she actually did _like_ them.

"I'm a classy bitch," Angelica said. She started to dig around in her bag, and the moment dissolved enough that Kurt could take a slow breath. He didn't need to be tense. She was a friend, more or less. She wasn't trying to be cruel. She was just _annoying_. "And I'm a classy bitch with an updated set design for the show, so you love me."

"Let me see it, and I'll tell you if that's true," he said and tried to focus on what was important.

The rest of the core Review staff wandered in while Kurt was making suggestions about Angelica's sketches, and if he noticed a few curious looks being cast his way and a smiling high-five from Ethan to Blaine, the meeting itself started normally enough. Blaine had ended up sitting on the other side of the circle between Tina and Ethan, but apart from a little thrill that ran up the back of Kurt's neck when he met his eyes there wasn't anything different about how the group worked.

That was true, at least, until they got to talking about how they wanted to end the first half of the show.

"I still like the idea of a big group number," Tina said. "They really get the audience psyched up for more."

"The only problem will be how many people we have to leave out," Kurt said, looking at the list of performers and acts on the sheet in front of him. "The dancers won't have time to change costumes if we have them right before, and I don't think it makes sense to have them sashay out and have a whole bunch of singers sweep on. It would feel anticlimactic."

"We could end on the dancers," Christa suggested.

"We could cut the dancers," Angelica replied with a grin, and Christa amiably stuck her tongue out at her.

"We could move the dancers," Ethan said, looking at the performance list again.

Kurt held up a hand to forestall the argument that was sure to erupt around that idea. "We are not moving them. The first half of the show is solid, apart from the ending." He privately knew he was still willing to adjust the acts as necessary, but it didn't make any sense to tell any of _them_ that.

"So let's not do a big number," Angelica said, tapping her pen thoughtfully on her notebook. "Let's do something else. Something breathtaking in a different way."

"You could sing an aria," Tina said.

"They won't come back for the second act if we end the first on opera, T," Angelica replied, but she sounded pleased by the suggestion.

"What about a more intimate musical number?" Ethan said. "Two or three people, something simple and strong. We have that music major... what's her name?"

"Amanda?" Ben said, one of the first comments he'd offered the whole meeting. Of course it was about the buxom blonde freshman, Kurt thought with an internal roll of his eyes. But then Ben wasn't a part of the Review because he knew anything about performing; he was there because he understood lighting better than anyone Kurt knew.

Ethan nodded. "Right. Maybe pair her up with someone, do like a medley of fun old time love songs or something. There have got to be plenty that fit within the theme."

"Oh, like Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney," Tina said with a dreamy sigh. "They could do a little tap, too."

"They were both more singers than dancers," Christa said.

"It doesn't matter," Tina said.

"Too bad Mike isn't here; that would be perfect for you two," Kurt told her.

"I'm not performing," she reminded him.

"Next year," he said with a grin, and she shook her head at him, grinning right back.

"One of the things I like about Amanda is that she can't dance," Angelica said, biting the cap of her pen.

Kurt looked back at the cast list on his phone, scrolling through the names again like someone new would appear. "We don't have to have dancing," he said. "They could just sing. Maybe Cole Porter."

"I like the idea of dancing, though," Tina said. "Just to give it that extra spark." She punctuated the last word with a perfect little flare of jazz hands.

As the group was laughing, Blaine said, "Kurt and I could do it."

Surprised, Kurt looked over at him sharply. "What?"

"Oh!" Tina said, clapping with excitement.

"We can both dance," Blaine continued, "and he can hit any note Rosemary could. I might have to stretch for Bing's low notes, but maybe we can transpose the key."

"Or pick good places to cut for a mash-up," Angelica said, nodding.

"This could be _great_ ," Tina said. "It would be unexpected but definitely fun!"

"The whole thing can be polished and elegant," Blaine said with growing enthusiasm as Kurt wondered what planet he had suddenly found himself on. Not that he didn't like to perform, and he certainly had excellent chemistry with Blaine, but - "Nothing too racy, nothing that people would get upset about."

Kurt could almost picture it, singing across the stage from Blaine, dressed to perfection, their eyes locked on each other, their voices rising together like a wonderful dream.

It would definitely be a show-stopper.

And yet hadn't he been thinking the other day about how he didn't want the spotlight on them?

"Nobody's going to get upset," Angelica said. "This is a theatrical review. If they don't like gays, they should be watching football or something."

"I watch football," Blaine told her, though he sounded more amused than offended.

"Yeah," Tina said with a laugh. "Way to stereotype, Ang."

"You know what I meant," Angelica said with a roll of her eyes.

"I think it would be nice," Christa said. "We could work out some really sweet choreography. Kind of romantic and stuff."

"I could almost get behind that," Angelica said, and Kurt's chest tightened a little.

Tina twisted toward Blaine. "How are you at leading? Or maybe it should be Kurt because he's taller?" She turned to Kurt. "Do you want to lead, Kurt?"

"I don't really care," Blaine added with an easy smile at him that Kurt could just not mirror.

Angelica hmmed to herself and tapped her pen against her mouth. "It'd be pretty either way."

Tina giggled and said, "It isn't only about that."

"It doesn't hurt," Christa said.

Ethan didn't look up from whatever he was doing on his phone. "Something for everyone."

"Kurt, maybe Mike can teach you his signature dip," Tina said. "It always makes my heart beat fast when he sweeps me into it, and I bet it would look great with you two."

With each additional comment, Kurt felt like the air was being sucked out of the room, taking his joy about the idea with it. He loved to perform, but this wasn't just performing. This was something else. This was something more invasive, more pointed.

And he didn't like how it felt at all.

"You could end on that," Christa said. "Freeze on a dramatic dip before the lights go down."

Angelica scribbled something on her notes and flipped to the next page. "Throw in a kiss, and it'll bring the house down," she said absently, like the idea didn't matter at all.

Ben slumped down in his chair and pulled out his phone. "I still think Amanda should sing."

"She can't dance," Christa reminded him. "Kurt and Blaine can."

Kurt finally found his voice. "No."

"Don't sell yourself short, Kurt. You can," Christa said with an encouraging smile. "I've seen you."

"Yes, I know we can, thank you," Kurt replied shortly, "but we aren't doing this."

The energy in the room turned from excitement to confusion as everyone looked at him, and he squared his shoulders.

"Why not?" Tina asked, her brows furrowing.

"It'd be awesome," Angelica said. "You guys could knock it out of the park, turn the whole love trope on its head."

"You said yourself you didn't want to do the obvious this time," Ethan said. "This isn't obvious."

"It's not going to happen," Kurt said. He could see Blaine watching him with growing hurt in his eyes, and he was sorry that it upset Blaine for Kurt to reject his idea, but it was his job to keep things on track, no matter whose suggestion it was. This was a bad one. He could feel it in the twisting depths of his stomach and hear it in the ringing in his ears.

Blaine raised his chin and said, "We sound really good together, Kurt. And you know we could do it."

"I'm sure we could," Kurt said to him, only softening a little as he met Blaine's gaze. He looked away, around the room at the rest of them. "But we aren't singing a duet in the Review."

"Why not? Are you worried about him outshining you?" Angelica asked Kurt in obvious challenge.

"I don't know how you manage to stay on the Dean's List if that's the kind of flawed analysis you use in your classes," he snapped at her, derisive and not rising to the bait.

"I don't see any other reason why you would do it," she said, turning in her chair to face him directly. "It would be a good match of talent, it would be a great twist for the show, and with you guys dating now it'd probably be pretty fucking hot even if you never touch each other."

The light in her eyes made Kurt's skin crawl and his breath go short, and that was the whole reason the idea felt wrong right there. His relationship was _not_ going to be on display like that. It barely existed at all, it was less than a week old, and now it was going to be entertainment? He bit out, "I said _no_."

"But - " Tina began more gently.

"No," Kurt said again. His personal life could not become part of the performance. It was unthinkable. "I am not doing that."

"Kurt - " Angelica said.

"That's my answer. This is my show, and I will not be singing with Blaine." Kurt looked down at his notes so that he didn't have to look at Blaine, who was watching him silently, his expression carefully blank.

"So it's getting late," Christa said after a few moments of awkward silence, and everyone moved at once from where they had seemed to be frozen in their chairs.

"I'll send out the notes to everyone tonight," Tina said, gathering her papers together and tucking her phone in her pocket.

"I'm going to work on the set design tomorrow, see if I can mock up one of those spinning light things and get together with Ben to see if he can work with it," Angelica said.

Ben nodded. "Make sure you leave room around the bulbs; those things get hot."

"Yeah, I got that the first time you told me," she replied.

"Anyone heading to Warren for dinner?" Ethan asked as he zipped up his coat.

"Me!" Tina said, bouncing toward him. "I have a study group in the quad at nine."

"I'm not even going to ask what you and Blaine are doing," Angelica said to Kurt. "But I bet it'll be fun with you having _that_ kind of attitude."

He continued to pack up his things and didn't look at her. He knew she was annoyed and turning it on him, and he wasn't going to give her what she wanted.

Stuffing her own belongings in her bag with angry movements, Angelica turned toward Blaine as he walked over. "You know, he really should be in a better mood now that you two are hooking up."

Kurt drew in a sharp, angry breath, but before he could speak Blaine said in a level, pleasant tone, "It's time to drop it, Ang."

Angelica looked between the two of them, and some of the fight drained out of her. "Fine. But I still think the duet's a good idea."

"Thanks," Blaine said, and he slid his hands into the pockets of his coat as she picked up her bag and headed out with Tina and Ethan.

"Thank you," Kurt said to him quietly, telling himself to relax. He could handle a few taunts from her. "I'm used to her, but… thank you."

Blaine shrugged. "It was bothering you."

There was an undercurrent of judgment in his tone that didn't sit well in Kurt's chest. "You don't like people talking about you, either," he reminded Blaine and turned away to pick up his coat.

"I don't like people talking behind my back," Blaine said, following after him. "Angelica's doing it to our faces, and she's harmless. Well, not _harmless_ , she's terrifying sometimes, but she means well. She's happy for us. Teasing is how she shows it."

Kurt knew it was never, ever that simple, but he didn't feel like talking about it anymore. It was time for dinner with just the two of them, and he didn't feel like spending his few precious hours together with Blaine rubbing salt in old wounds.

So he just nodded, got his bag over his shoulder, and picked up the bin of hats. "Hold the doors for me?" he asked.

Blaine glanced between his face and the box, but if he was going to argue about who should carry it he decided against it. He got the door instead.

It wasn't until the horrible hats were deposited in the costume office and Blaine could walk next to him as they made their way out of the building instead of rushing ahead to open the next set of fire doors that Blaine brought up the meeting again.

"I understand if you don't like my idea, but I thought you liked singing with me," he said quietly, his hands back in his pockets and his shoulders hunched in a way that made Kurt unsure if he should slide his own hand in the crook of Blaine's elbow or just give him his space.

"I do," Kurt assured him gently.

"Okay," Blaine said, but Kurt knew him well enough to know he wasn't convinced at all.

Kurt took the risk and reached out to tuck his hand through Blaine's arm. "I love singing with you. Of course I do. This has nothing to do with you, Blaine."

"Since it's about singing with me, it kind of feels like it does," Blaine said, still subdued.

"It _isn't_ ," Kurt insisted. "You are not the problem. It just isn't what I want the Review to be. It's not what we should be focused on. It's not about _you_. I promise. If you want to sing those songs with Amanda, you are more than welcome to. I'll be watching you admiringly from the wings."

Blaine looked over at him, searching his face for a moment as they walked, and then he settled his free hand over Kurt's. "Okay," he said again, but this time his body relaxed with the word. He smiled a little, and that meant that Kurt could relax, too.

"Good. And I know what will make you feel even better," Kurt told him, and he laughed a little shakily when Blaine's eyes dropped immediately to his mouth. His stomach did a flip, both at the attention and the promise in it. "Well - I meant curly fries, actually, but..."

Blaine's eyes lit up even more, and he bumped happily up against Kurt's side. "Curly fries first, absolutely," he said. "And then...?"

"And then we shall see where the night takes us," Kurt agreed and led him out of the building toward the Union.


	2. Chapter 2

6\. Surprise

Blaine rubbed at his eyes as he walked out of the lecture hall, his shoulders slumped and his writing hand aching. The econ test he had just managed to finish before the end of the period had been _brutal_ , and he had to get halfway across campus to his next class and make his brain pay attention enough to take notes when all he wanted to do was go take a nap and recover.

Unfortunately neither napping nor recovering was an option. He had an intense double lecture of poli sci to get through. He sighed and turned left, toward the outer door he needed to take.

"Blaine?"

Blaine looked up in surprise. That was Kurt's voice, and there was Kurt, standing against the polished stone wall across the corridor, out of the way from the students rushing past.

"I have class," Blaine said in confused apology. "I need to - I can't - "

"I know. I'm not here to make you late." Kurt threaded his way through the students and held out a little white box wrapped in pretty gold and silver ribbons. "I just brought these for you to help you get through your day." He lifted his chin as though he were steeling himself.

Blaine took the box and stared at it dumbly for a moment. He knew exactly what it looked like. "Is this from Chloe's Creations?"

"Butterscotch chocolate chip cookies," Kurt replied with a nod and a tentative smile, like for some crazy reason Blaine might not want to accept them.

"Those are my favorite," Blaine said, looking back up at him in absolute wonder.

Kurt's smile grew. "I know. I thought you could use them after your test."

"I - "

Glancing around at the steady stream of students, Kurt tucked his hand in the lapel of Blaine's coat, leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, and said with the color rising in his face, "You have to go to class."

It was more than the drain of the test and the shock of the surprise that was making Blaine's brain slow to work; Kurt was doing this for _him_. Kurt had taken time out of his own very busy schedule to walk blocks to Blaine's favorite bakery to get him his favorite cookies and bring them to him and had _kissed_ him with all of these people glancing at them curiously as they passed just because Blaine was going to have a miserable day. Kurt had done this for _him_. "Thank you," Blaine managed to say.

Kurt patted his chest and took a step back. "You're welcome. Hurry, or you'll be late. I'll see you at dinner." When Blaine didn't move, he added, "Blaine, you're going to be _late_. You know how your professor gets when people walk in after he starts. First there's mocking, then there's yelling and throwing of whiteboard markers."

"I know, I - " Blaine shook his head and got control of his feet, walking backwards in the direction of the door. "Thank you."

"Thank me at dinner." Kurt stood there watching him with a giddy, almost triumphant smile until Blaine had to turn around and run to his next class.

7\. ~~Karaoke~~ Wes

Saturday night, Kurt was standing in the narrow hallway by the coat check at Cliff's, waiting for Blaine and Tina to entrust their coats to the heathens and unknown infestations of the cloak room, his heel already bouncing with the beat coming from the singers on stage and his thoughts on what _he_ was in the mood to sing, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He spun around to find Wes and Esther standing there.

"Kurt," Wes said, holding his hand out to him to shake.

Kurt's eyebrows raised despite himself at the unexpected gesture, but he moved his coat to his other arm, met Wes's hand, and shook it.

"Congratulations," Wes told him quite seriously.

"Thank you," Kurt replied, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice.

Wes nodded. "See you inside," he said and headed toward the coat check.

As Esther passed by, she leaned up and said in Kurt's ear, "That means he's happy for you two." She gave him a huge smile and followed her boyfriend.

"Okay," Kurt said to himself, mystified by the whole encounter.

8\. Karaoke

As much as he might have wanted to, Blaine knew that he wasn't _really_ going to get to spend the night at karaoke holding Kurt's hand and singing romantic songs to him, but he'd kind of assumed he'd get to spend _some_ time with him.

The subway ride over with Tina had been a nice start, with Kurt relaxed enough beside him that he swayed into Blaine's side with the rhythm of the train - and Kurt's cologne or aftershave or whatever it was drifting up from the collar of his jacket was the best head-spinning scent to block out the much less pleasant smells around them - and the conversation about all of the work they had to get done before Spring Break in a couple of weeks was good-natured. It felt like the best of their group of friends - easy, fond, full of humor, ready to have a great night of fun together - only Kurt wasn't just a friend anymore, and he didn't hesitate for a second when Blaine offered him his hand to help him up from his seat at their stop.

It felt really, really good.

The problem started when Rachel had grabbed Blaine's arm the minute he and Kurt had approached the tables where their friends were sitting and had dragged him off into the corner for a brief but utterly terrifying warning about exactly how important it was to her that he took being Kurt's boyfriend seriously, and then just when he'd been ready to promise her anything as long as she stopped looking at him with daggers in her eyes she'd pronounced herself absolutely _thrilled_ for them both and had dragged him up onto the stage to celebrate the news with her.

Why he was celebrating having Kurt as a boyfriend with _her_ instead of getting to _be_ with Kurt Blaine wasn't quite sure, but he didn't think he let it show as he supported her through Celine Dion's "Eyes on Me." Kurt's smile from his seat beside Tina seemed genuine and approving enough, anyway.

Blaine went to the bar after the song to get a soda for himself and after a few moments' indecision a fruit spritzer for Kurt, hoping it would be a welcome treat, but by the time he got back to the table Kurt wasn't there anymore. He was on stage with Esther, Priya, Tina, and some other young woman Blaine didn't know, singing "Say You'll Be There."

Blaine set the drinks down with a sigh and would have been happy to sit and watch him perform, especially since Kurt was singing Posh Spice's parts way better than she ever did and looked just as regal and fashionable in that slate-colored shirt and dark tie, only Mike scooted over next to him.

"Good to see you, Blaine," Mike said.

"Thanks," Blaine replied, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Kurt. "How are you?"

"Good. Busy, but good. It sounds like you're having a great week, yourself," Mike said with a knowing if friendly smile.

Blaine's laugh came out more nervously than he expected. "If you're going to do your duty as a friend and threaten me about Kurt, you're going to have to work really hard to get scarier than Rachel," he told him. He tried to sound like he was joking.

Mike laughed, too, so Blaine guessed it worked. "Nope, no threats. Just hope that you guys will make each other happy."

"Thanks," Blaine said. He was honestly a little surprised by all of the attention about their change in status - with Sebastian his friends at Dalton had pretty much not reacted one way or another when they started dating other than to be sure invite them both together, but usually all of the Warblers were invited to everything, anyway - but it was kind of encouraging. He guessed a lot of their relationship had played out in public, too, in terms of them being at odds and growing together as friends, so maybe the group had a vested interest in them remaining happy. It certainly would make things easier on everyone if they did. "I hope so, too."

"So far so good?" Mike asked with a kind lift of his eyebrows.

Blaine couldn't stop the smile that swept across his face at the thought of the past week, with how full his heart felt every time Kurt looked at him with warmth in his eyes, every time Kurt touched him with tenderness, every time Kurt said or did something that just automatically included him in a basic but deep way. The growing closeness between them was the very thing he'd been trying to avoid finding with someone for so long, and he had been the biggest idiot in the world not to realize it was exactly what he wanted. Even though it wasn't all smooth sailing, _he_ felt so wanted. "Yes," he said, his smile growing even bigger.

Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "I can see that. That's great," he said, and it sounded like he really meant it.

"It is," Blaine said with gratitude, both for the support and for the fact that he was somehow in this position with Kurt in the first place.

"You know, he - " Mike began, but he was cut off by Tina coming over and flopping down onto his lap.

"Hi!" She gave Mike a kiss on the cheek.

"Blaine!" Esther said from behind him. When he turned to face her, he found her looking very serious. "Tonight's the night."

"What?" he asked.

"Wes just told me that he's staying here for Spring Break instead of going somewhere warm with me," Esther told him.

"I have an internship," Wes leaned across the table to explain.

"And I have a bikini," she shot back, her expression annoyed but her eyes twinkling. "So tonight's the night, Blaine. Wes ruined my romantic week of sun and surf, so we're going to ruin his night." She stood for a moment, taking a dramatic pause with her hands on her hips. "We're doing country music."

"Yes!" Blaine said as Wes sunk his head into his hands.

"So it's your pick. Billy Ray or Shania," Esther said to Blaine.

"I don't care. Whichever you'd rather sing," he replied.

"Oh, no, you'll have to be lead," she said. "I might want to punish him, but I don't want to break his eardrums by singing lead, myself."

"Then maybe not Shania," Kurt said, and Blaine turned in surprise. He hadn't realized Kurt had slipped into the seat beside him, and he was kind of disappointed about that he hadn't noticed immediately. He felt like he should have. "Hearing Blaine sing 'Man! I Feel Like A Woman!' might break his brain instead."

"Oh, I've heard him sing far worse," Wes said, and Kurt's head tilted with curiosity.

Blaine rushed to change the subject. "I got this for you," he said, pushing the fruity drink along the tabletop toward Kurt. "I hope it didn't warm up too much."

"Aww!" Esther said. "That's so sweet!"

Clearly surprised, Kurt looked at the drink, up at Esther, and then over at Blaine. His mouth curved into a small smile as he reached for the martini glass. "Thank you," he said and took a sip. Locked on Blaine's over the rim, his eyes crinkled even more. "It's perfect."

"You're welcome," Blaine said softly, his heart beginning to pound. Kurt's eyes were so _gorgeous_ when they were happy, and _he_ had made them shine that way.

"You - " Kurt began.

"Come on, Blaine," Esther said, tugging at Blaine's arm and breaking the moment that had been growing. "It's our turn."

Blaine got to his feet, still looking at Kurt and feeling uneasily like he might slip away again. "Don't go away."

"I'll be here," Kurt said with a smile. "Go punish us all for Wes's transgression by singing country."

"I - "

Kurt waved him on with the drink in his hand. "You'll be great."

Blaine _was_ great, if he said so himself; he might have been modest about a lot of things, but singing wasn't one of them, and he'd had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand despite country music being a rarity for the bar. He'd even gotten Esther to take a few lines on her own.

But when Blaine got back to the table after singing "Achy Breaky Heart" Kurt was nowhere to be found. He'd been there throughout the song, talking to the group at the table but his eyes mostly on the stage, but he was suddenly gone, only his coat over his chair and his empty glass indication that he'd been there at all. He wasn't at the bar or flipping through the song binder, either.

"Rachel spilled something on her dress," Tina explained as Blaine looked around, confused. "Kurt's helping her get it out. He's magic with that kind of thing."

"Oh," Blaine said. He had to be disappointed not to return in triumph from the stage to his boyfriend's side, but he'd seen Kurt work wonders with club soda and a steely gleam in his eye that dared a stain to set right in front of him. He understood why Rachel would have wanted his help.

"He'll be back," she assured him, patting his arm. "Don't worry."

"I'm not," Blaine replied and managed a smile. He shouldn't be so _disappointed_ about him being gone for a few minutes, but they hadn't had much time together yet, and he really wanted to perform with him. He'd been thinking about it all week, about how Kurt had sung with him on that train platform and about how even if Kurt hadn't liked his idea for a duet in the Review he had said that he liked singing with Blaine. He'd been thinking about their duet a month ago on that karaoke stage, "Private Idaho," how much fun it had been to play off of each other within the music, and how much better it was going to be tonight when Blaine knew his heart well enough to sing it out into Kurt's eyes.

He really didn't want to have to wait any more to get to do that.

But he had to, so he reached for his soda and asked Tina, "Have you picked a topic for your research project yet?"

Tina flopped back dramatically in her chair and groaned like she was dying.

"I guess that's a no?" Blaine said.

"If I run away and join the circus, will you come visit me?" she asked. "I'll get you half-priced peanuts."

"Absolutely," he promised.

After Blaine nodded and offered sympathy to Tina for a few minutes, Rachel strode through the doorway and made a bee-line for them. Kurt trailed behind her, his eyebrows quirked in a way that made it seem like he was partly annoyed and partly amused.

"If people are going to be _so_ disrespectful as to eat animal products near me," she announced to the table and sat primly in her chair, "I would really appreciate it if you would be careful not to drip pig fat on my clothes." She looked pointedly at Ethan.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he skirted the table toward Blaine. "And for those of us who live in reality, it means please watch what you're eating when she's giving an impassioned speech about Sondheim and keep it well away from her flailing arms." He bypassed a few empty seats and sat on the chair next to Blaine.

Blaine's heart fluttered, actually fluttered like a butterfly in his chest, because Kurt might have chosen to sit by him sometimes before they were dating, but now maybe it really was a given that he _would_. Sebastian had made it clear he hadn't wanted to be stuck to his side, but Kurt seemed to like to be there. He hadn't considered his options; he'd just _sat there_.

"Hi," Blaine said, turning in his seat and smiling at him.

"Hi." Kurt tilted his head and smiled, too. "Having fun?"

"Yes, especially now that you're back. I should have known I'd have to fight for your attention not just from other people but from clothes, too."

Kurt smiled even more and said, "You don't have to fight for it at all." He was so close, so handsome, so perfectly dressed, his eyes focused only on Blaine, his beautiful, beautiful eyes that were so deep and full of happiness directed at him, and his mouth curved and soft and -

"Sorry to interrupt," Wes said from behind them, and Blaine pulled away, reaching for his drink to cover the way he'd been staring at and swaying toward Kurt. Wes put a hand on his shoulder. "In the spirit of retribution, I need to borrow Blaine."

"Oh?" Kurt asked, looking up at him. He didn't seem the least bit flustered, and Blaine wondered if he'd imagined the moment he thought they'd been about to have.

Wes gave him a grave nod. "Esther made me listen to country music; I'm going to make her listen to _Hair_."

"No!" Esther wailed from across the table. "No, Wes, come on. I had a reason to torture you! This is unfair. This is mean. This is - "

"Payback," Wes told her. "Come on, Blaine. We're up."

"But I - " Blaine stopped himself from gesturing at Kurt. Wanting to spend time with his boyfriend probably wasn't an acceptable excuse for not helping Wes, even if it seemed like a good one to him.

"This is a Warbler emergency, Blaine," Wes said, his eyes narrowing at Esther. "I am requesting your help."

"Well, if it's a Warbler _emergency_ ," Kurt said dryly.

"We take our brotherhood very seriously," Wes told him.

Blaine knew he had to go. It was Wes, and he'd invoked the Warblers. This was important. Still, if he let Kurt out of his sight again and Kurt got pulled off somewhere, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hide his feelings about it. "Will you sing with me when I get back?" he asked in a rush. "Please?"

Kurt blinked at him for a moment, obviously taken aback by the tumble of words, and then he smiled again. "I might even let you pick the song," he told Blaine.

"Thank you," Blaine said with feeling, reaching out to touch Kurt's arm. Then he bounced to his feet.

"I said _might_ ," Kurt called after him.

"Okay!" Blaine said over his shoulder and followed after Wes to the stage.

"Hmm," Wes said, flipping through the binder to the musicals section and looking through their options. "Should we do the title song? Or maybe 'Ain't Got No.' I wonder what would upset her the most."

"You really want to upset her?" Blaine asked, glancing over his shoulder at the table where Esther was gesticulating wildly at their friends. She looked unhappy but not devastated, like maybe she was enjoying playing her part in the teasing game.

Wes looked over toward her, too, a tiny smile touching his lips. "Yes, but only a little. Oh, 'Good Morning, Starshine'; she loathes that one. She can go on about it for hours. Although since we can't change the key, that would be a stretch for us. Should we ask Rachel to join us?"

"Let's pick something _we_ want to sing." Blaine watched Kurt cover a laugh with his hand and wished he were there beside him to enjoy the sound. He turned away toward the binder; the sooner they were finished, the sooner he could be back at the table. "Here. 'Manchester England'. Let's do that one."

"Good range, two male parts… all right." Wes put the selection in the machine and handed Blaine one of the microphones. "For the honor of Warblers," he said seriously.

Blaine saluted him with his microphone.

The song was well-suited to them, and he and Wes knew just how to blend their voices together, but Blaine had trouble relaxing into it because at first Kurt was smiling at him almost proudly in the most distracting way from across the room, making Blaine's heart do that fluttery thing again, and then because Kurt wasn't smiling at all because Rachel was holding onto his arm and talking into his ear and gesturing up at the stage. At _Blaine_. _She_ was smiling and nudging him, but Kurt wasn't looking happy at all. It almost made Blaine lose his place in the song.

Finally Kurt snapped something at her, and she pulled away. Kurt turned his attention back to Blaine during the closing notes, but that smile of his was gone.

So was that lovely lightness in Blaine's chest.

When Blaine clattered down the stairs, he found Kurt walking toward the bar. Kurt met his eyes, so he clearly wasn't avoiding him, and Blaine changed direction to meet him over at the sign-up list, where Kurt was writing his name at the bottom of the sheet.

"It looks like we have a little while to wait," Kurt said, setting down the pen.

"Is everything okay?" Blaine asked, because that warm, flirty light in Kurt's eyes was definitely dimmed.

Kurt nodded and smoothed the cuff of his shirt. "Fine," he said a little distantly.

Blaine tried again. "Did Rachel want something?"

"When doesn't she?" Kurt turned, putting his back against the bar and looking up at the stage where two young women were absolutely mangling The Beatles.

"Kurt - "

"Let's look at our song options," Kurt said, but Blaine caught at his sleeve. Kurt met his eyes, and it was like looking at Kurt from months ago, closed off, self-contained, and far away.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked him, feeling helpless in the face of this all too familiar person who was so suddenly out of reach. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go at _all_.

Kurt stood very still for a long moment as the women screeched their way through 'Norwegian Wood', and then some of the tension melted from his frame. It wasn't much, but his posture loosened and his mouth softened. There was his Kurt again, at least a hint of him. "Let's just say that Rachel is very pleased for us, and she likes to go on about it at length and in great detail."

Blaine laughed a little, more relieved than amused. "Your friends seem to have a lot of opinions about us."

"Our friends," Kurt corrected, and he tipped his head in question. "Right?"

"Of course they are," Blaine said. "But most of them were yours first."

"I will happily give you Rachel," Kurt said dryly. "Although that's hardly fair to _you_. You should have heard what she was suggesting about what we should be - " He shook his head. "Never mind. I promised you a song."

Blaine felt his smile spread across his face before he even registered Kurt's words. They were going to _sing_ together finally. This was going to be _amazing_. Kurt was going to sing with him, to him, and Blaine was going to sing back, and it was going to be perfect and everything his heart wanted.

"You did," he said. He gestured toward the binder and let Kurt go ahead of him. "I had a few thoughts. A lot, actually. There are so many good choices. 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic', 'Head Over Heels', 'Crazy for You' - "

"Oh, let's not make a spectacle of ourselves, Blaine," Kurt said with a distant sigh, not looking over at him as Blaine's heart stopped, went into free-fall, and crashed onto the floor.

Blaine had no idea what to say, but it didn't matter, because Kurt wasn't even looking at him.

" _No_ love songs," Kurt muttered to himself as he skipped that thick section of the binder.

Blaine felt like the room was swaying beneath his feet, and he put a hand out onto a nearby speaker to ground himself in what he hoped looked like a casual gesture.

He'd thought - Kurt had said he wanted to sing - Hadn't he been smiling and - ?

But, no, it made sense, he told himself. It did. Blaine was getting ahead of himself. Kurt didn't want to sing with him in the Review, and he didn't want to sing a love song here, and Sebastian had always _told_ Blaine he was too pushy, too needy, too quick to express his feelings in song. Sebastian had always hated the spectacle of it, too.

Maybe Kurt liked Blaine's affection in private - he found himself wondering in horror if Kurt only _tolerated_ it, no, he knew better than that, didn't he? - but in public, Blaine had to be a little more reserved. Of course he did. He was getting swept up in Kurt and in everything he wanted to do with Kurt, and that wasn't right. It wasn't about him, it was about _them_ , and if Blaine took a second he could see every negative signal Kurt was sending as subtly as he could, probably out of deference to Blaine's feelings.

Blaine had to pull back. He had to. Kurt didn't want a spectacle. Kurt didn't want Blaine to make a spectacle. Kurt didn't want to sing a song about love with him, and that had to be okay. He would take what Kurt wanted to give him and not ask for more, not push for it. It was him assuming he could have more that was the problem, it was _always_ the problem, and he -

"I was thinking this one," Kurt said with a smile, gesturing to a song on one of the pages.

Blaine felt stiff and cold, but he took an automatic step forward beside him and looked where Kurt was pointing. He blinked, not quite sure what he was seeing. The page was marked as the _Labyrinth_ soundtrack. "I _love_ that movie," he said slowly.

"I know," Kurt said, nudging his shoulder against his. "That's why I picked it." Surprised, Blaine jerked at the contact, and Kurt looked over at him curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, swallowing. "I just - I'm - "

Kurt turned toward him, watching his face with concern. "Do you not want to sing? You said you did, but I know you've been up there a lot."

"No, I - " Blaine cleared his throat and wished the world would stop reeling around him. "I want to sing with you."

"Do you want to sing something else?" Kurt asked.

"I love this song," Blaine said helplessly, because he did, and Kurt _knew_ it and had picked it for them. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but maybe it wasn't quite as bad as he had thought.

Kurt gave him a tentative smile. "So…?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes."

"Good," Kurt said, his eyes crinkling up with joy, and he put their selection into the computer as Blaine pulled himself back from the edge of misery he'd been skirting and followed Kurt instead.

Singing was Kurt was absolutely incredible, even better than Blaine had remembered and certainly better than he had expected from their conversation beforehand, because from the first note Kurt was right _there_ with him, _his_ Kurt, seemingly holding nothing back as Blaine danced around the stage and did his best David Bowie impression through "Magic Dance." Kurt's eyes were sparkling with laughter, but he didn't falter at all, just skipped out of the way as Blaine circled him and teased him back through his own parts.

If it wasn't a love song, if Kurt was looking at him fondly instead of adoringly, if Blaine was playing to the audience instead of pouring out his heart, well, it was still wonderful to watch Kurt in his element and to get to show off a little for him. He could see the admiration in Kurt's eyes when he chose an interesting harmony or hit a particularly strong note, and Kurt rose to the occasion, too, lifting his voice higher and higher through his range as the song went on.

It was a challenge, and Blaine was happy to accept it, singing harder and better, not to upstage Kurt but for them to do their best as partners.

Blaine's heart lifted with the music, the give and take between them, this song he had loved since he was a child, and the fire in Kurt's eyes, and by the time the song was over he could almost be okay with Kurt not wanting to sing something sweet with him, because at least they were singing together.

Together was good. Together was great. Blaine loved together.

They were both grinning as they took their bows, and Blaine grabbed at Kurt's hand when they were down the stairs.

"I _love_ that song, and I'm happy I got to sing it with you," he said. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ ," Kurt said breathlessly, his entire face lit up, and he let Blaine lead him back to the table hand-in-hand.

They were greeted with a smattering of applause by their friends when they returned, and Kurt laughed and curtseyed to them while Blaine just smiled at him, his heart feeling warm and big in his chest.

"You were _wonderful_ ," Rachel said, patting the chair beside her. "I've always thought your voices worked well together, and of course now that you've taken this new step in your relationship you clearly have an additional layer of emotion that if you expressed it would make your performances positively swoon-worthy and - "

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt said shortly, pulling his hand away from Blaine's with a jerk and taking a seat a few chairs away from her while Blaine stood there, numb with surprise as Kurt was just _gone_ again.

Rachel leaned toward Kurt. "You may not be able to see how much it enhances your singing for the two of you to be so wrapped up in each other that the audience can't help but melt at -"

Kurt interrupted her. "Not all of us need to pick our duet partners based on our personal feelings, you know, as much as that was a staple of your high school experience. Some of us can perform without that crutch."

"Crutch? Just because my voice blended particularly well with Finn's doesn't mean I haven't - " Rachel began, and Blaine wondered how the good mood they'd just been enjoying could disappear so quickly.

"I'm going up to the bar," Mike said, getting up in a rush. "Come with me, Blaine?"

Blaine looked between Rachel and Kurt, talking in not particularly low voices across the table, and nodded. It was an abrupt return to reality. It was an abrupt reminder of what it was, of what his place in it was. "Sure."

"I thought you could use a rescue," Mike told him as they made their way across the room. "When they start going at it, it's usually a good idea to get out of the way. They don't pull punches with each other."

Blaine watched Kurt's eyes narrow with annoyance. "Have they always been this way?"

Mike clapped him on the back. "It used to be worse. But don't worry; they'll be back to singing Streisand together in a half hour."

And they were, the two of them positively glowing up on stage as they sang "The Way We Were" with more sentiment than Blaine really wanted to see. He knew it wasn't the same thing at all, but it was hard for him to sit back in wonderment at their unquestionable talent when Kurt clearly had no trouble emoting at _her_ through their performance. It was just Blaine he didn't want to sing with about love. Even with Rachel with her big facial expressions and sad eyes, it was _Blaine_ who was a spectacle.

It was hard for that not to rankle.

And then when Kurt got back to the table, he didn't argue when Rachel led him to the opposite side from Blaine, where there were two chairs free together, and kept him wrapped up in conversation for another half hour, their heads bent close. Even though Kurt looked over at Blaine regularly and shrugged as if in apology, it just didn't feel good.

Blaine didn't want to play games. He didn't want to be guessing whether Kurt was going to run hot or cold. He just wanted to _be_ with him, to express his feelings, and it hurt that Kurt wasn't on the same page.

It was okay. He didn't have any right to assume Kurt would be. But it still hurt. It still clawed in his chest, waking memories from Sebastian he wanted to put well behind him. He knew it wasn't the same, but it still didn't feel good at all when he spent the rest of the night talking with Wes and Mike and Kurt was nowhere near him.

So when they'd all gathered their coats and were out on the chilly New York street, he couldn't feel happy when Kurt came over and hooked his hand in the crook of Blaine's elbow. "Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked instead as they fell in at the back of the group heading for the subway.

"Oh, I'm sure that there aren't actually lice in the cloakroom," Kurt said, his step a happy bounce beside Blaine and his breath coming out in a puff of white in the winter air, "even if I can't make myself take that chance with my own coat."

"That's not what I meant."

Kurt looked over at him. "You're upset? I'm sorry about Rachel. Apparently she has a new gentleman caller who she thinks has been using her for her vocal range instead of - "

"This isn't about Rachel, Kurt," Blaine said, though he was relieved to hear there was a reason Rachel had monopolized him the way she had at the end of the night.

"Then what is it about?" Kurt asked more quietly. His hand was stiff on Blaine's arm, but he didn't remove it.

Blaine breathed, in and out, in and out, and told himself that he was being stupid. He was being jealous. He was being possessive. He had no right to be upset that -

"Is this about the song?" Kurt asked.

"I liked the song," Blaine told him, watching Mike's light feet on the pavement some yards ahead of them.

"But you wanted to sing something else. Something more… emotional."

His heart raw, Blaine made himself nod.

"Blaine." When Blaine didn't respond, Kurt gave a tug at his arm. Blaine met his eyes. "You've heard them. What they say. What they assume. What they think about us, what they picture in their dirty little minds. I don't want our relationship to be a spectacle for their entertainment. I want it to be about us."

"If we're not doing it for them, if we're doing it because we want to, then it _is_ about us," Blaine insisted. "They know we're dating. They know we have feelings for each other."

"I know," Kurt said with such aching softness, not looking away from Blaine's face. "But my heart is _yours_ , not theirs."

It was hard for Blaine to breathe around the power of those unexpected words, and his own trembling heart was in his throat, already in Kurt's hands. "Kurt - "

Kurt turned away, looking ahead of them, his mouth going flat. "I know it's silly of me. There was a time I would have sung my feelings from the top of my lungs. I did, in fact, for years, for no good reason but that a boy didn't immediately shove me into a locker every time he saw me or smiled back when I smiled at him in class. But this is different, you are different, this is real and not cheap or sordid, and I don't want to put on a show. I want this to be ours."

"This _is_ ours," Blaine told him.

"I know." Kurt was silent for a moment. "But it's important to me, and I don't want to share it."

Blaine let himself take that in, think about it, and breathe through it. He wanted to get it right and be sure, not just react. He needed to listen to what Kurt was saying, not just the push-pull of desire and rejection he was feeling from him. He needed to hear what Kurt really meant, that this was too important to him to put on display, not that it wasn't important enough.

"Okay," he said finally. There was no answer Blaine could give him besides that one, because if Kurt didn't want his heart exposed to everyone's view, then it was Blaine's job to protect it, no matter that his own heart wanted to be singing out everything as loudly as it could.

"I'm sorry," Kurt told him, meeting his eyes again. He looked a little hesitant, concerned.

"Don't be," Blaine assured him and put his hand over Kurt's on his arm.

Kurt took a slow breath and sighed at himself. "I'm sure I'll get over it."

"You don't have to," Blaine said, even if he would have to do the same about his own wishes, and Kurt smiled at him and leaned in closer against his side as they walked.

9\. Serious Talk About Sex

It had seemed like a good idea to Kurt at the time.

After all, they were two smart, conscientious young gay men, and they were in an exclusive relationship. They needed to sit down and talk about their sexual histories, practices, and health. They both knew it. It was an important step to take.

And they meant to, they really did, only one thing kept leading to another when they were alone - because they were also healthy, attractive, attracted young gay men - and they kept finding themselves at least partly undressed and in the middle of enjoying themselves without having had a proper talk.

So it made sense for them to come up with a dedicated time where they could sit and talk and make some good decisions not in the heat of the moment about what they needed to share and exactly how safe they needed to be with each other. They weren't going to be foolish or reckless, but if they could trust each other and had clean bills of health, they could talk about dispensing with condoms for at least some of the things they could do.

Kurt wanted that, and he knew Blaine did, too. He knew they both took their safety more seriously than most of their peers, who never used condoms for blow jobs to start with, but as important as being careful was, there was something wonderful about thinking that they didn't _have_ to have the absolute safest sex possible with each other.

The only problem with the idea of sitting down to talk about sex was that Kurt found himself sitting in a quiet corner of a coffee shop, waiting to talk about his sexual history with his very hot, very sweet, and very much more experienced boyfriend.

He wondered as he sat and looked blankly out of the window with the buzz of the café like white noise in his ears if he could put his coat back on for an extra layer of protection. His chest was _pounding_ , his hands were cold, and his throat was dry. This was going to be _so_ mortifying.

He was starting to get to know Blaine's body, what Blaine liked, how best to touch him. He'd never had that kind of luxury to know another person that way, and that it was Blaine was such a gift, because Blaine was as generous with his reactions as he was with his own explorations. He was getting to learn about Blaine's favorite spots - the corner of his mouth, the warm spot beneath his ear, the flat muscles of his abdomen, the tendon in his inner thigh - and what Kurt could do with them to make him whimper, gasp, or laugh with desire. He was learning not a man's body but _Blaine's_ body, and it was amazing.

Kurt was just starting to feel like he was getting the hang of sex with Blaine - not that it was getting dull or expected, but he didn't feel like he was going in entirely blind and trusting on instinct and encounters with past lovers to guide him - and now he was going to have to admit that he hardly knew anything at all.

It was going to change how Blaine saw him, and he couldn't be excited about Blaine judging his every touch in terms of his relative inexperience. But he still had to tell him.

He sighed and smoothed his high-necked sweater. This mature daylight talk had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Kurt's cup of coffee cooled between his hands, undrunk, and finally Blaine came into the shop, his face lighting up the second he spotted Kurt. He came directly over.

"Hi," Blaine said warmly. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his eyes were sparkling like he was drinking in the sight of him.

"Hi," Kurt said, smiling back, because there was no way he could resist Blaine's happy face even if he was about to lose some of Blaine's respect. "I got you a coffee." He nodded at the second cup on the table.

"Thanks." Blaine sat, and instead of reaching for the cup he reached for Kurt's hands. He held them tight in his own winter-chilled fingers and said, "This was a good idea."

Kurt's smile turned tight, and he felt his posture stiffen. "Thank you."

"No, it is," Blaine said and began to shed his coat and scarf. "I've been thinking a lot about it the past few days. This way it's all out there, the way a real relationship should be. I'm really happy about this."

"Me, too," Kurt told him, because even if it was going to be uncomfortable it was still the right thing to do, for his health, for Blaine's health, and for their relationship as a whole. It was smart. It was respectful of each other.

It was going to make him wish he were and had always been celibate and quite possibly mute as well, but it was the right thing to do.

"Do you want me to go first?" Blaine asked when he was settled. "I don't mind."

Kurt nodded, not quite trusting his voice. They were here. They were going to do this. He was going to hear all about what Blaine had done with people who weren't him, and he was going to have to tell Blaine how little _he_ had done in comparison.

"Okay." Blaine took a sip of his drink and a deep breath and began. He spoke steadily and easily, quite seriously but seemingly without embarrassment. "You know about Sebastian. He was my first. We did a lot, and not all of it was safe, but I thought it was because we were dating. We didn't always use condoms, never for anything oral, and sometimes not for anything else. I thought it was fine then, but I was kind of stupid, given who he was. I just didn't know it. I still don't know if he slept with anyone else when we were together, but after we broke up I had the full battery of tests, and I've been doing that regularly ever since. I might not have talked about STDs the way I should have when I hooked up," he said, his brows furrowing like he was disappointed with himself, "but I was _always_ careful. I always used a condom. Just like I've been with you, I've always been safe since Sebastian. And I was tested again before you and I got together. I'm clean. I'll show you the paperwork, if you want."

"No, that's all right," Kurt said quickly, trying to process it all. "I believe you." It was both clinical and overwhelming, difficult to be presented with such bold facts about Blaine's very active sex life before him. It was a cross between information he never wanted to think about and lot of frank conversation of the type he hadn't been confronted with since he'd got those pamphlets from his dad before he went off to college.

"I'm happy to answer any questions," Blaine said, watching him with an earnest intensity that would have been endearing if it weren't putting Kurt in the spotlight. "I've done a lot more with you than anyone else since Sebastian. Even our first time together, we went further than I have with anyone else I hooked up with. I want you to know that you don't have to worry."

"Okay." Kurt cleared his throat and swallowed carefully. He could do this. Blaine deserved honestly, even if he didn't have as much to say. "You don't have to worry about me, either," he said, trying to match the matter-of-fact tone Blaine had set. "I haven't been as active as you, since I didn't have a boyfriend and hooking up hasn't been easy for me, but I have always been safe. Always. For everything I've done." Even, he thought with a sour twist of triumph, when the other person wasn't happy about it. Not every boy had cared about him or treated him with the same respect Blaine had from the start, but he had always cared about himself. Boys were safe with him, or they didn't _get_ him. "I've been tested regularly, and I've never had any problems. The last time I was tested was last fall."

"Oh," Blaine said with a short nod, like he was processing the facts. "So should we go do that? Just to be sure?"

Kurt shook his head and admitted, "There's no need. The last time I was tested was after you, and there hasn't been anyone else." He didn't let himself drop his eyes to his coffee; he kept them on Blaine instead.

"Oh," Blaine said again, but his expression shifted from businesslike toward pleased, a smile playing on his lips.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing. So - "

Kurt watched him across the table with some suspicion and just a hint of amusement. "You like that I haven't been with anyone since the first time with you?"

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a moment. His eyes were dark when they met Kurt's again. "I can't help it, Kurt. You were special to me. You've always been special. It was hard for me to want other people after what we had that night, even if it took me a while to figure out why. So I like that I was special to you, because I know you don't just do what we did. I'm sorry if that's weird."

Kurt drew in a short breath; he hadn't quite realized that night - he - had made such an impression on Blaine that it had had an impact on the other boys he'd hooked up with. He liked hearing that. He liked knowing it wasn't just _him_. "It's not weird," he told Blaine softly. "And you were very special. You are."

Blaine just looked at Kurt's face for a long moment, looked and looked like he was memorizing or considering or trying to believe, and then he extended his hand across the table. A sizzle of electricity went up Kurt's arm when their fingers and palms slid together, and it wasn't just a sexual connection. It was way more. It was an affirmation that there was something real there, something true, something _strong_ and _important_ just between the two of them, and that they both saw it.

Kurt's heart soared with how very precious it felt to have his feelings reflected back at him, and Blaine's hand in his felt strong, like a solid, living link between them. This was good. This was right. This really was something _more_ than the average connection, no matter how it had started, no matter how long it had taken to get from there to here.

He knew it, it wasn't that he was doubting it, because every time he looked in Blaine's eyes he could see how good this growing relationship was making him feel, too, but that they were _important_ to each other was what Kurt had always wanted from a relationship, and here they were.

"Is there anything else you should tell me, then?" Blaine asked after a moment, still smiling a little at him. "We've been safe, we're both healthy, and we can decide what precautions we want to take based on our preferences instead of a blanket decision to be as safe as we can possibly be."

"No," Kurt said, shaking his head. "There's nothing else you need to know for us to make decisions together." He felt a little like he'd dodged a bullet, but there was no need for him to say anything more to Blaine about his lack of experience. It didn't matter, really, what he'd done or what he'd hadn't with other people. What mattered was that they were going to do whatever they did because it was what they both wanted.

"Okay." Blaine squeezed his hand and sat there looking at him, almost glowing with happiness. After what felt like a long time, although Kurt had no real need to break the moment, either, he finally pulled himself up and said like he was grateful, "This really was a good idea, Kurt."

"I think so, too," Kurt said in some wonder.

If this what was a relationship was, where they were able to talk, make mature decisions, and take care of each other as well as getting to hold hands in a coffee shop and have plans to go window shopping and have an early dinner so that they could not even pretend to study in Kurt's room that night, Kurt thought he was even more on board with dating Blaine than he had already thought he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: I am unspoiled for upcoming canon. Please don't spoil me!


	3. Chapter 3

10\. Finn

In the middle of the baggage area at the airport, Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand where he was holding it between them, obscured by their winter coats. They'd been able to hold hands beneath the blankets on the airplane and had seen each other every day since they'd started dating a month ago, and it felt weird that they were going their separate directions now that they were in Ohio. It was strange to think he'd have to take his family's schedule into consideration just to be able to see him, that Blaine wasn't going to be there at most meals like he was in New York, that he wasn't going to be there over coffee in the morning or tea at night, that they'd have to ask permission and sort out timing with their parents to see each other at all.

Kurt didn't _need_ Blaine, but he was so used to _having_ him.

It felt very wrong that they were going to be cut off from each other at least some of the time because of people other than themselves, like Kurt was stepping back into a cage he'd outgrown and escaped, even if the door wasn't going to be locked entirely.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride?" he asked as a family with five kids wheeled their suitcases noisily past them. He didn't want to let go. As independent as he was, he didn't really want to let Blaine out of his sight, because it felt a bit like as soon as he did the past wonderful month was all going to slip away and leave him in his old Ohio life again. He knew it was stupid, but he could feel the chill of its memory against the back of his neck.

"My dad's only running a few minutes late," Blaine said, holding onto him just as tightly and not looking away from his eyes. "You go. I know your family is waiting for you."

Kurt nodded and swallowed thickly. His _family_. He was going to get a whole week with them over Spring Break, and Blaine would be close by with his, so he didn't have to give up one to get the other, even if Blaine wasn't going to be able to stay over at night… or probably even go up to his room with the door closed at any time of day. He wasn't sure how his dad was going to react at all to him having a boyfriend; they might not even be able to sit too closely together. But he could give up having privacy if it meant he could have Blaine in his life in Ohio, too.

"Let me know what your parents say about coming over tomorrow," Kurt reminded him. "And the party on Wednesday."

"I will, but they're going to be fine with it," Blaine told him, just as he had every other time Kurt had mentioned it.

"Okay." Kurt couldn't quite let go. It was stupid. It was so stupid. He had to pull himself together. He'd see Blaine tomorrow. It didn't matter that it felt like he was stepping back into his lonely high school past, it was only _one_ day.

Blaine smiled with so much affection and said, "Okay."

Finn cleared his throat behind them and said a little awkwardly, "Okay?"

Kurt closed his eyes with a frustrated sigh, opened them to take another long look at Blaine, and then let him go. "Call me," he said, drawing himself up tall.

"Text me," Blaine replied, and he grabbed the handle of his suitcase, shot Finn a wave, and walked off toward the benches by the door.

Kurt turned to Finn and found him watching Blaine with a frown and a crease between his brows. He looked perplexed, maybe even uncomfortable. "Is this going to be a problem?" Kurt asked with icy precision, because the last thing he needed was judgment in his own home. He knew Finn hadn't seen it happen before, but he was allowed to date. He was allowed to talk to and spend time with his boyfriend.

Finn snapped his attention to Kurt and shook his head. "Uh, nope. No problem."

Kurt watched him for any signs of lying, but Finn's face was as open and guileless as ever. "I would hope not."

"Nope," Finn said again, patting Kurt on the shoulder. He glanced over in the direction Blaine had gone in and then back to Kurt. He nodded. "I'm good."

"Good," Kurt repeated slowly. He waited for the punch line to come, the pointed comment about PDA, or the weird look like Kurt was a whole different and less welcome kind of gay man now that he was in a relationship.

But Finn just smiled and reached for Kurt's suitcase. "Yep. All good. He's a cool guy. I'm glad he'll be around."

There were a lot of different responses Kurt might have expected to Finn having to face his new romantic life in person, but confusion turning into blithe acceptance wasn't one of them. At best he'd expected Finn to ignore it or give him a condescending fraternal lecture about being circumspect when in Ohio.

This was so much better. This was so much _bigger_. If Finn wasn't as important as his dad, he was still family. And he was the most difficult of all of them.

Kurt's last niggling worries about bringing Blaine home vanished entirely in the face of the realization that this part of himself was going to be accepted there, too.

"Kurt?" When Kurt looked up, a little breathless, he found Finn stopped a few steps away. "Come on, little brother, let's go home."

11\. The Hummel-Hudson House

"That looks delicious, Mrs. Hu - Carole," Blaine corrected himself, smiling gamely at Kurt's step-mother.

She placed the basket of hot, sliced bread on a trivet and said with a gleam in her eye that he really hoped was amusement, "Thank you, Blaine. And thank you for setting the table." She headed back into the kitchen.

"It's my pleasure, Carole." Blaine struggled with the paper napkin he was trying to fold into a neat triangle, only it wasn't quite square, and no matter what he did it was lopsided, and, god, nobody took this long to fold a napkin. Kurt's family was going to hate him, but it wasn't like he could give them a lopsided napkin, either.

"Nice to see kids these days take table setting so seriously," Kurt's father commented from his seat on the couch.

"Thank you, sir," Blaine said. "With dishes as nice as these it's worth the extra time to do it right." He crumpled up a napkin, panicked, and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans. Oh, god, they were going to _hate_ him. They already did. He'd seen it in the sardonic lift of Burt's eyebrows the second Blaine had walked in on Kurt's heels and had shaken his father's hand what was probably a little too hard, because he knew that a weak handshake didn't impress anyone, and he really wanted Kurt's dad to approve of him.

Yeah, the night had been a disaster from the start.

"Why have you suddenly turned into Eddie Haskell?" Kurt hissed at Blaine as he walked past with a dish of steaming carrots.

"I want them to like me," Blaine whispered back desperately.

"Then stop whatever it is you're doing and be _yourself_ , Blaine," Kurt told him, setting the food down and spinning on his heel back toward the kitchen.

Blaine gave up on the napkins and folded them into more pedestrian rectangles. It was okay. He could do this. People liked him. Parents liked him. Even Sebastian's parents had liked him. He knew how to use silverware properly, he didn't tell off-color jokes in mixed company, and he had what he was told was a charming smile. He could do this.

And for a while he did. He sat beside Kurt at the table with Carole beside him and Finn across from him, and he laughed in the right places as Finn and Kurt told Glee Club stories and Finn and Burt told Hummel Tire and Lube stories. He even backed Kurt up on last semester's saga of trying to find rehearsal space, and his heart skipped a happy beat when Kurt smiled at him and called him his hero for finding the debate room for them.

But then Finn made some comment about something Blaine didn't understand, Kurt bristled, went on the offensive, and told Finn's girlfriend - Caitlin, who was sitting opposite him - all about Finn dressing up as one of the members of Kiss, complete with full makeup, and Finn retaliated with a story Kurt dressing up as Lady GaGa, complete with what were apparently quite impressive heels.

"You walked down the halls in _school_ in those?" Blaine said in shock. He would never have had the guts. Not that he even wanted to wear heels, but it was still impressive that Kurt had done it in the face of all that was being thrown at him in high school. Knowing Kurt, it was probably _because_ of it.

"For the whole week," Finn said.

"Kurt's always had a way with clothes," Burt said mildly from the head of the table. Blaine heard the warning in his voice beneath the affection, and he knew without a doubt it was directed at him.

"He does," Blaine said quickly. "I've always been drawn to his clothes. I mean, not that I'm not drawn to _him_ as person, but his sense of style is exceptional. If he wants to wear heels, he should wear heels. I'm okay with that. It's totally fine. It's great." He turned directly to Kurt, who was staring at him like he was growing horns out of his head right there at the table. "You can wear heels if you want to," Blaine finished in despair.

"One, I do not need your permission to do that," Kurt told him with only a veneer of patience. "Two, I do not want to wear heels; that was a costume. And three, have some more turkey, Blaine."

"And maybe some mashed potatoes," Burt said.

"Yeah, seconds!" Finn reached for the carrots.

Blaine managed not to sink underneath the table, as much as he wanted to. He took a big bite of his meal to try keep his mouth occupied so that he couldn't possibly fit his foot in it, too. Again. He was doing this so _badly_.

He knew how important Kurt's family was to him, he could see the contentment oozing out of him just sitting there at the table bickering over the bread with Finn or getting up to refill the pitcher of ice water when Carole started to rise to do it. He could see his Kurt in this laughing boy who was suddenly so much younger and happier than Blaine was used to seeing when other people were around, and he realized that this must be what Kurt looked like when he was comfortable. This must be where Kurt got to be himself the most, and he was humbled and honored that the private Kurt with him was so very similar.

Blaine told himself he just had to work very, very hard to be on his best behavior, the kind of manners his parents had instilled in him his whole life, the kind of manners Sebastian's parents had responded so well to. He could be a good guest. He stayed quiet in his seat, looked interested, and unwound a little when Kurt smoothed his hand over his thigh under the table. All he had to do was get through the night and make sure Kurt's parents wouldn't ban him from the house. They didn't have to like him. They just had to be okay with him.

"Blaine, will you help me with the dessert?" Carole asked at the end of the meal.

"Of course," he said without hesitation, pushing back from his chair. It was the only answer to give.

"I'm coming, too," Kurt said. "If you brulée the caramel too long - "

"Blaine and I can figure it out," Carole told him, and for the first time ever in Blaine's experience with him, Kurt didn't argue when someone told him no.

Blaine waited self-consciously by the counter as Carole pulled out the custards from the refrigerator.

"Would you bring the sugar over, please?" she asked, pointing to a ceramic container on the counter.

He fetched it for her, careful not to fumble it. "Here you are."

"There's fine, honey," she said, gesturing with her head to the countertop next to her as she took a ramekin and a tiny blowtorch out of the cabinet. "Have you done this before?"

"No, I'm sorry. I haven't."

"I was taught by the master: Kurt himself," she said with a laugh. "But don't tell him that I've been doing it on my own when he's away. He'll try to hide the butane again."

"My lips are sealed," he told her, smiling and relaxing just a hair at her infectious good nature.

She poured some sugar into the ramekin and began to sprinkle it in a fine layer over the custard. "This part's easy enough. Do you think you're up for it?"

"I can try." He took the ramekin from her and tried to mimic her movements. He wasn't as smooth, but he didn't think it mattered too much.

"Good." Carole began to busy herself with the blowtorch, doing something he wasn't quite sure, maybe checking the fuel level or something. He turned his eyes back to his task. "We're glad you could come over, Blaine."

"Thank you for having me," he replied.

"That's great," she said, looking at his work and sliding a hand onto his shoulder in a comforting touch. "And don't thank us. Of course we wanted to meet you. Kurt's been talking about you for months, and a lot more recently, obviously. We know this is serious for both of you."

Blaine swallowed, knowing there was no way he was measuring up to Kurt's glowing remarks about him. At least he hoped they were glowing.

"You're doing fine," Carole told him softly, rubbing his shoulder, and he was fairly sure she meant more than just about the sugar sprinkling.

His breath caught in his throat at the sign of approval, but he kept his hands steady as he finished his task. "Thank you," he managed to say.

With one last pat, she pulled away, picked up the blowtorch, and said with a twinkle in her eyes, "And now for the real reason Kurt doesn't want anyone but himself doing the bruléeing: it's _fun_. Are you ready?"

Blaine had to grin in reply. "Absolutely."

Dessert went off well; even Kurt didn't have anything critical to say about their caramelization of the sugar. Finn demolished his portion, ate half of Caitlin's, and eyed Kurt's across the table until Kurt smacked his wandering spoon with his own. Blaine could almost relax.

But then Carole deputized Finn and Kurt to do the dishes, despite the fact that Kurt had helped cook the meal, and Blaine found himself on the couch with Mr. Hummel in his easy chair on one side and Caitlin on the other.

"It's so nice to have them both home again," Carole said happily, watching the two boys at the sink for a moment before coming to sit on the other side of Caitlin.

"Doesn't happen enough," Burt agreed. He settled back in his chair, adjusted the cap on his head, and looked at Blaine. "So." He paused, and Blaine felt like he was sitting under a one of those too-bright interrogation lamps for hours until Burt's gaze shifted to Caitlin. "How's the nursing program going?"

"Really well, Burt!" Caitlin said as Blaine tried to remember how to breathe. Why did he think he was going to be able to survive this night? Kurt's dad hated him. He _hated_ him.

Blaine focused on looking like he was following the conversation. He knew how to do that, how to ask the right questions, how to smile like he was interested. He knew how to do that. He just had to fall back on everything he knew and all of his experience being polite and inoffensive. He could almost feel a phantom Dalton tie knotting itself at his throat.

"And what are you majoring in, Blaine?" Burt asked him, and Blaine forgot everything he'd been taught about being smooth and suave and instead crumpled like… like… like one of those napkins he'd mauled earlier.

"I'm, um, undecided," he said. He heard Carole address a question to Caitlin, but Burt's focus was still on him, and Blaine couldn't look away. He didn't dare.

"No idea what you want to do?" Burt asked.

"No, I - " Blaine's throat was dry, and he knew the only way through this was openly, because he didn't have it in him to spin the story any better. "My father wants me to go into finance or business, but I've realized that even if I could do it, I'm not passionate about it. And I want to be passionate about what I do." He glanced over at his shoulder toward the kitchen, though he could only hear Kurt's laughing voice and not actually see him. "Kurt's helped me see that."

Burt's expression didn't shift, but something changed deep in his eyes. "He's always followed his dreams," he said.

"I really admire that in him," Blaine said quietly. "I might not be sure what my dreams are right now, but I want to have big ones like he does."

Burt seemed to think for a moment and then gave him a slow nod. "Well, that's what college is for. Figuring things like that out. You got time. That's what you're there to do," he said, like he thought Blaine was actually being smart not to know. "Kurt's always known his mind and his heart, but he's one of a kind."

"He really is," Blaine agreed, feeling spun around by the support but sure of that much, at least, and for the first time he got a real smile out of Kurt's father.

"I'm sure you are, too, kid," Burt said. "He wouldn't have picked you, otherwise."

Blaine ducked his head, uncertain of how to respond. He didn't feel one of a kind, especially not tonight, not unless the kind he was was someone who didn't deserve his amazing boyfriend.

"Look. I'm not dumb," Burt told him. "He's been away at college for a year and a half now. In New York. I know you're not the first guy in his life. But you _are_ the first one he's talked about. That means you're special. Special on your own and special to him, like it or not."

Meeting Kurt's father's eyes again, Blaine said with complete honesty, "I like it."

Burt's eyes crinkled with approval, and he resettled the cap on his head. "Good. You should. You know how picky he is."

Blaine couldn't help but laugh. "I've noticed."

"You don't even want to hear about him and the fight over the laundry room curtains when he was six. Like anyone cared about it but him, nobody goes into the laundry room to admire the curtains, and he still threw a fit 'til his mother and I fell in line. I'll have to tell you that one sometime."

Blaine imagined a tiny little Kurt, imperiously ordering his parents around; it was a wonderful thought. "I'd like that."

"Excuse me," Kurt said, sweeping into the room. "Blaine, I need you. There's a situation."

"Okay," Blaine said, standing up and walking toward him. "What's wrong?"

"Everything okay?" Burt asked.

"It's just Finn," Kurt told him. "He still can't be trusted with the dishes, and what is the point of having a boyfriend if I can't bring him in to dry the plates?"

"Well…" Caitlin said slowly, and as soon as she and Carole looked at each other, they started to laugh.

Blaine watched Kurt with concern, because if there was one thing he'd learned over the past month it was that Kurt was very touchy about other people mocking him having a relationship, but Kurt just rolled his eyes, snapped his towel at his step-mother, and said to them, "Yes, that, too, but he's also useful for dish-drying, and don't look at me like you don't have yours do chores."

Carole leaned closer to him and said in a stage whisper, "We just don't usually mention it in front of them."

Kurt laughed, hooked his hand through Blaine's arm, and said, "Blaine _likes_ to help." He sounded proud, almost like he was bragging, and Blaine was a little dazzled by the smug smile on Kurt's face as Kurt led him into the kitchen. He couldn't quite believe it was about _him_.

"All right," Kurt told him, walking him right over to the sink beside Finn, who was standing with a dish towel in his hands and a resigned expression on his face. "Blaine, you are now drying. Finn, give him the towel and promise me you will not touch another dish until it is dry. I may have good reflexes, but I am tired of grabbing for dishes you are about to drop."

"Water is slippery, dude," Finn muttered, but he handed Blaine the towel. "I always forget how bossy you are."

Kurt leaned in toward Blaine, his arm pressing up against his and his hand still tucked in his elbow. "I'm sure you won't need supervision the way he does. Make sure he has a good hold on it before you give him anything."

"Okay," Blaine said, a little confused - but pleasantly so - as Kurt's hand slid up his arm and down his back before Kurt pushed up his own sleeves and went back to washing dishes. He didn't mind Kurt touching him, obviously, but Finn was right _there_ , and Kurt was usually slower to reach out with open affection around their friends.

" _That_ is how you dry a dish, Finn," Kurt said when he handed a plate to Blaine, who dutifully wiped it off with the towel.

Finn took the plate from Blaine and put it away in the cabinet. "I know how to dry a dish. I fumbled _one_ glass. One."

"Hmm," said Kurt, clearly unconvinced, and gave Blaine the next clean plate.

"You know," Finn said, "I was here the time you dropped the butter dish. I remember how it went all over the floor. And then you _slipped_ on the butter like you were in a cartoon and it was a banana peel." He said that last part almost to Blaine.

Kurt lifted his eyebrows. "Do you really want me to bring up the gingerbread cookie incident of 2011? Does _Caitlin_ know that story?"

Blaine watched with amusement as Finn shifted uncomfortably at the escalation and shook his head. "Nope. No, I'm good."

"I think she might enjoy it," Kurt said, biting back a smile. "Gluttony, greed, lies, and murder. It's a compelling story."

"Murder?" Blaine asked. He handed the plate to Finn, a cog in the easy machine of these two brothers at work. It was such a different dynamic than he might have expected. He'd hung out with Finn, of course, but not with Kurt at the same time. He'd never gotten to see them as _brothers_ before. They seemed very comfortable in their roles. It almost made him miss Cooper, not that they'd ever been friendly in the same way.

Kurt let out a sad, melodramatic sigh. "So many gingerbread men and women taken before their time."

"They were just _cookies_ ," Finn said.

"Tell that to their families, Finn," Kurt replied, and then he couldn't control his smile anymore, and Blaine watched as Kurt beamed over at his brother. He felt kind of left out, but he didn't mind. Kurt didn't easily fit into a lot of places, Blaine realized, but he fit here.

Finn reached out behind Blaine and patted Kurt on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're home," he said with a grin. "Even if you're bossy."

"I'm glad to be here," Kurt said with a quiet serenity. He glanced over at Blaine from the corner of his eyes. "I'm glad you're here, too."

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "And I know Caitlin is happy she isn't the only girlfriend at the dinner table. Boyfriend. Significant other. Damn it, you know what I mean."

Instead of being offended by the terminology problem the way Blaine half-expected, Kurt just laughed and gave Blaine the next plate. So Blaine said, "Thanks. I'm sure it takes the pressure off."

"Nah, she's used to us by now," Finn said. "But with you here she's not the only one who doesn't know all of the family jokes."

"Like the gingerbread cookie incident," Kurt agreed, and he used Blaine as something of a human shield when Finn made a move like he was going to mess up Kurt's hair. He danced a few steps back, pulling Blaine with him. "I'm very skilled at revenge, Finn."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten _that_ ," Finn told him.

"Now look what you made me do," Kurt said, taking the towel from Blaine and using it to wipe off the soapy residue his wet hands had left on the arm of Blaine's sweater.

"Sorry about the collateral damage, dude," Finn said to Blaine.

"It's okay," Blaine said as he watched Kurt very carefully and gently dry him off. His throat went a little tight, not because he cared at all about his sweater but because Kurt was just so _sure_ of how he was touching Blaine right there in his kitchen, like he was totally comfortable doing it. Like he was used to touching Blaine, which he _was_ , at least most of the time, but usually just when they were alone. Blaine touched Kurt all of the time, but even now that they were dating, even a month into their relationship, Kurt didn't seem to be unthawing all that much. It was simply who he was.

It was probably because of the sweater, Blaine told himself. Kurt was more comfortable with clothes than people. Blaine shouldn't be reading into the touch at all. He shouldn't be surprised about it. Kurt was just saving the sweater.

"There," Kurt said, folding the towel and tucking it into a cabinet pull by the sink. "I'm going to leave the serving dishes and pans to soak and will deal with them later." He poked Finn in the arm. "And you will be helping me with them. Don't think I'm letting you off the hook."

"Bossy," Finn said under his breath.

"Organized," Kurt told him.

When they went back into the living room, Carole and Caitlin were nowhere to be found, though Blaine could hear their chattering voices from somewhere nearby, and Burt was sitting in his chair with his remote in hand.

"About to put the game on," Burt said.

"Cool!" Finn said, sitting down on one end of the couch.

"You two are welcome, too," Burt said to Kurt and Blaine where they stood by the doorway.

"Which game?" Blaine asked politely. It was March Madness, but he was a little dazed by it being vacation and couldn't remember who was playing and what time of day the games were. Basketball simply wasn't his sport.

"Kid, I've got about four hundred channels," Burt said. "There's always a game on somewhere."

"Thank you, but I am taking Blaine upstairs to show him my GaGa shoes," Kurt announced, reaching out to take Blaine's hand in his own. His grip was warm and secure.

Burt looked at Kurt, at Blaine, and then at their joined hands, and he said with that mildness that set Blaine's heart racing every time, "All right. You got about ten minutes before I'm going to come up and find something real interesting to do in the hallway."

Blaine could feel his cheeks heating at the implication of what they might be doing - not that he wasn't missing his time alone with Kurt, and not that he and Sebastian hadn't done all sorts of things with either set of parents ignoring them in the house, but in this house with Kurt's family it felt very, very far away from the freedom they had in New York - but Kurt only rolled his eyes. " _Shoes_ , Dad."

Blaine let himself be led upstairs, and the second he walked into Kurt's room he realized he would have known it anywhere. It was much bigger than his dorm room, but it had that same clean style and mix of elegant and quirky bits of decoration and personal knick-knacks. There were pictures of Kurt's family and his high school friends, trophies and diplomas, and yet a sense that things were missing, that there was a bit too much space on the tidy shelves, like so many of Kurt's favorite things weren't there anymore because they were in New York.

Blaine's eyes roved over everything - Kurt's dressing table, his bed, his dresser - trying to get an even better view of the boy Kurt had been before Blaine knew him, the boy who had lived in this room when Blaine had been at Dalton, the boy whose safest space in the world had been here as he'd made plans to reach for something more. It was an oasis, a retreat, and just so perfectly Kurt.

It also felt just a touch sad, not only because of what was missing but because Blaine knew this room had been the only place Kurt had truly been able to express himself. It was an echo of a harder time, a skin mostly shed as he'd grown into a newer, better one in New York. And yet it was still Kurt's _home_ , like Blaine's room at his house was his home, his anchor of where he came from, even if it didn't quite feel right anymore, either.

He turned back toward Kurt, who had opened the doors to his closet and was running his fingertips over the carefully hung clothes there like he was greeting old friends before he reached up to grab something from the top shelf, the easy, lean line of him on tiptoe a treat to Blaine's senses.

"Here we are," Kurt said. He turned with a pair of large, light blue, bejeweled, very, very high heels in his hands.

"Those are…" Blaine struggled to come up with an appropriately effusive adjective, because they were kind of terrifying, really, and he couldn't quite believe Kurt had been able to walk in them. He couldn't believe Kurt had walked in them _at school_.

"Irrelevant," Kurt finished for him. He brushed off the toes and went back to put them on his shelf. "They don't mean anything now, besides their obvious fabulousness. I just don't like lying to my father. So now you've seen them."

"Oh," Blaine said as Kurt walked back toward him and met him at the foot of his bed. Kurt put his hands gently on Blaine's shoulders, rubbing up and down a few inches before stilling.

"You seem like you're relaxing some." Kurt's eyes were warm, fond, free of judgment, and maybe just a little hesitant.

Blaine nodded and put his hands on Kurt's hips; it was impossible not to touch him when he was so close. "Your family is really great," he said. "I like them."

"I'm glad. I want you to." Kurt's fingers flexed a little on his shoulders. "I want you to like being here."

"I do," Blaine assured him. "They've been very welcoming."

Glancing out toward the hallway, Kurt said, "I probably should have known my dad would be watching my every move. And adding a running commentary."

"It's okay. He just loves you."

"I know." Looking deep into Blaine's eyes until Blaine felt dizzy with it, Kurt moistened his lower lip in what looked like a show of nerves, and then he asked in a very quiet voice, "Will you kiss me?" He sounded tentative, like he was asking for something big he wasn't sure he would get.

Blaine didn't know why Kurt was feeling nervous, but he certainly knew how to answer the question. He smiled and leaned in, holding on a little tighter but not pulling Kurt in against him.

The kiss was soft and chaste, just a gentle movement of their lips, and yet as it went on Blaine could feel Kurt shuddering beneath his fingers, a fine tremor running through him and his breath shaking as it puffed out over Blaine's cheek. The simple innocence and the way Kurt was reacting to it threatened to take Blaine's own breath away, too, and his chest hurt without any rational explanation.

Then Kurt suddenly smiled against his mouth, slid his arms around Blaine's shoulders, and turned the kiss deeper, long and slow and kind of dirty in a way that made Blaine's pulse begin to race and his hands itch to be a lot less respectful.

But he didn't, because they were in Kurt's room in Kurt's house with Kurt's family just downstairs, and he didn't know if Mr. Hummel had a shotgun, but he was pretty sure he'd manage find one just for the situation if he walked in on Blaine mauling his son.

So Blaine just kissed him, open and deep, tasting caramel and Kurt, and moaning softly as the hair raised on his arms at the touch of Kurt's tongue. It was just kissing, and it could only _be_ kissing, given where they were, but that it couldn't be more made it that much more intense. It couldn't go anywhere else, so everything in him was focused here, here, here.

"Thank you," Kurt breathed against the corner of his mouth.

"For kissing you?" Blaine had to chuckle, moving over the scant half inch needed to get his lips on Kurt's again. He tightened his grip on Kurt's shirt because if he didn't he was going to be tempted to use his hands to push Kurt onto the bed instead.

"Well, I _do_ like it. But I meant for kissing me here." Kurt rubbed his nose against Blaine's cheek, his voice going dreamy. "I used to sit in this room and wonder if I'd ever meet someone like you. And now you're here."

Blaine pulled back enough that he could see Kurt's eyes and the memories in them, and he could feel his smile wobble, because it was one thing to want to make Kurt's dreams come true and something else to hear that he _was_ , at least one of them. It was almost impossible to believe, almost too good to hear.

"You don't have to thank me for that," Blaine said, his voice rough in his throat.

Kurt's smile went sad, and he ran his fingers along Blaine's cheekbone before dropping his hand back to Blaine's arm. "I do," he said simply. "You have no idea how alone I felt. You have no idea how much having you here now makes it all not matter so much."

"Kurt - "

"We'd better go back downstairs," Kurt said, stepping away from him. "And save my father from having to come up with an excuse to fix something in the linen closet."

"Kurt - " Blaine started again, because it felt like Kurt had just told him something very big.

"I'm serious. We need to go." Kurt took Blaine's hand again and looked at it for a second. Then he met Blaine's eyes, smiled, and tugged him toward the door.

The game Burt and Finn were watching did turn out to be basketball, and Kurt took the middle seat between Finn and Blaine on the couch and kept up a dry running commentary in counterpoint to the cheers of the other three. Finn and Burt seemed used to it and commented back, while Blaine was just amazed to find that Kurt was slowly leaning into him as he got settled in and got comfortable. Blaine didn't dare put an arm around him, but he shifted a little so that Kurt could press up warm and secure against his side.

Even when Kurt got up sometime later to make popcorn with Carole and Caitlin, he came back to the same spot and resumed his position tucked against Blaine's arm. It was wonderfully easy and tantalizingly domestic in a way they didn't get to experience in school. Blaine kept an eye on Kurt's father, but apart from a few curious glances at him (and a few smiling ones from Carole), he didn't react. He even, if Blaine wasn't imagining it, hid a laugh in a cough when Blaine without thinking moved the quickly emptying bowl of popcorn away to keep Kurt from commandeering the last of it as his own, much to Kurt's consternation.

" _Excuse me_?" Kurt put his hand out for the bowl that Blaine was holding off over the side of the couch, out of his reach.

Blaine blinked into focus that they weren't hanging out with their friends but instead Kurt's family, but the damage was done. He couldn't stop now. "I've met your dad now," he told him as Kurt fixed him with a glare. "You can't tell me he didn't teach you how to share."

"He also taught me how to fight dirty when necessary," Kurt said. The chill in his voice really was kind of alarming.

"Can't we just make more popcorn?" Finn asked, wide-eyed on the other side of Kurt.

"I'm with Blaine," Burt commented from his chair. "If Kurt wants the last of the popcorn, least he could do is say please instead of taking it."

Kurt snapped his head around to glare at his father, too, but then he turned back and said with crisp precision, " _Please_."

Blaine took in the dangerous tilt of his eyebrows and the way Kurt's dad was watching him and silently handed the bowl to Kurt.

Kurt took it with a little "humph" but leaned even more fully against Blaine as he settled back down, so Blaine couldn't be too worried that he'd offended him.

Kurt's family was another story entirely, and Blaine had the sinking feeling that he'd spent the whole evening digging himself into a deep hole of awkwardness, climbing out, and then just digging a new one, but at the end of the night Carole kissed his cheek, Caitlin gave him a huge hug, and Finn patted his back in a friendly way and said he was looking forward to hanging out with him at the New Directions party.

And when Kurt rushed upstairs to find a scarf for Blaine to borrow, because apparently it had turned cold enough that Blaine wasn't to be trusted walking to his car without one, Burt clapped Blaine on the back and said, "You're welcome any time, kid. In case you were worried about that."

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said in surprise.

"Got to admit it's a new world for me, Kurt bringing home someone," Burt said. "But he's always had a good head on his shoulders. Come by as much as you want."

Blaine had _no_ idea what to say; Sebastian's parents had always been polite and had never objected when he came and went, but this was something entirely different. This was personal. This was _welcoming_. This was about _Blaine_ , even though he'd been self-conscious and strange all night. Burt was still being kind to him. "Thank you."

"Here we are," Kurt said, hurrying into the front hall with a striped black and grey scarf in his hands. 

"You know, it's not that long a walk to the car," Burt said to him with some amusement.

"It never hurts to take care. Besides, he looks nice in a scarf." Kurt walked straight up to Blaine and draped it around his neck, standing close in front of him as he arranged it to his satisfaction.

Blaine stood there and let him, feeling the brush of his soft fingers against his skin and watching the light in Kurt's eyes and the smile playing at his mouth, and realized with a crystal-sharp snap of insight that maybe this was what Kurt was meant to be. This was who he was, beneath it all. This was what he wanted his life to look like, not in Ohio, obviously, but behind the front door of some apartment in New York, this warmth, this concern for each other, this familiar, easy comfort of togetherness.

Blaine watched Kurt's handsome face so close to his own and thought with a kind of panicked wonder if this caring, teasing, kind family was something he might actually want to share with Blaine.

He'd always thought most families ended up being like Sebastian's or his own, outwardly pleasant but distant, more interested in being polite than being genuine, but he found himself wondering if _this_ was something he might possibly get to have, instead.

He was still reeling with that thought when Kurt leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth as he let him out the door, his father just a few feet away on the couch again. "Thank you for coming over," Kurt murmured. "Call me when you get home?"

His heart in his throat, Blaine nodded and held onto Kurt's hand a moment longer before heading out into the night.

12\. ~~Sebastian~~ Near Miss

Blaine held the land-line handset between his shoulder and ear as he poured himself a cup of coffee in his kitchen the next morning.

" - Finn is talking about watching a movie tonight with Sam and Puck, but I don't know if I can sit through another one about aliens and explosions," Kurt was saying, his voice slightly distant because Blaine was on speakerphone while Kurt styled his hair.

Blaine was only a little sad not to be there to watch; there was something magical about how Kurt got his thick hair to behave so perfectly.

"What's wrong with aliens and explosions?" Blaine asked, leaning his pajama-clad hip against the counter.

His cell phone beside him chimed with a text message, and he glanced down to read it.

Trent to Blaine: _Warbler party TONIGHT! Are you coming? How can we sing RYG without you?_

Blaine flicked off his phone's screen. He knew he _should_ go and see his Dalton friends, but he'd been putting off replying for nearly a week. He just didn't want to. He didn't want to go. But it also didn't seem right to turn his back on them again.

Kurt laughed on the other end of the line. "Of _course_ you like aliens and explosions."

Blaine's phone chimed again.

Trent to Blaine: _Wes says your new bf can sing. Bring him if you want. Just come!_

Blaine swallowed some coffee, wincing as it burned his mouth, and put his back to the counter. It would be better with Kurt there. He'd have someone on his side, and Kurt would certainly impress them with how he sang, how he held himself… how he treated Blaine, like he was important instead of an afterthought, like he mattered, like he -

" - so I'm officially escaping to Rachel's house," Kurt continued. "She says you're welcome to join me. Actually, she _demanded_ that I bring you along, because she says she misses New York already, although I think she wants us both to sing with her down on her stage in the basement so that she can forget about the fact that Finn isn't pining for her. I was planning to take over the ingredients for some sorrow-drowning chocolate chip cookies."

"Is she okay?" Blaine asked.

"Oh, she's fine," Kurt said breezily. "Nothing that cookies and gossip won't solve."

Blaine considered a night with all of his old Dalton friends, singing and dancing in perfect synchronization with pizza and beer and laughter, and a night with Kurt and Rachel baking cookies and hearing moan about her boy troubles. He knew there should be no comparison.

There wasn't, actually. Only one of them would actually be fun.

He picked up his phone.

Blaine to Trent: _I'm going to pass this time, sorry. Have fun!_

"That sounds great," Blaine said to Kurt. "When do you want me to pick you up?"

13\. Rachel's House

"And now," sang Hiram at the piano as he played the bridge, "the next verse is just for our adorable pair of lovebirds."

Kurt took in the stars in Blaine's eyes, at the delighted shock in them that had been there the whole night as he watched Rachel's fathers and the life they had together, and decided that they were almost worth the embarrassment of all three Berrys cooing over them.

If anyone was going to understand what it meant for them to have found each other, after all, it was the Berrys, even if they were awfully knowing about it. And it was so wonderful it made his heart feel too big for his chest to see Blaine so caught up in this family that had been one of Kurt's few refuges for so many lonely years. Kurt had long dreamed of finding what they had, and Blaine seemed to be caught up in how special it was, too.

It made Kurt feel warm enough that he ignored LeRoy's doting look, didn't pull away when Blaine put his hand on top of his on the piano, and smiled over at his boyfriend as they took up the song together.

14\. New Directions

Sam was the first person to speak directly to Blaine at the New Directions party. It was actually quite a long while after he got there.

As soon as they arrived at Sugar's house, Rachel swooped in on them and grabbed onto Kurt's arm.

"Finally!" she said under her breath, a huge, fake smile on her face. "You're late!"

"Only by five minutes," Kurt told her. He tugged ineffectually against her grip.

"There was traffic," Blaine added, wondering if he needed to step in somehow, either to free Kurt's arm or to try to unfreeze her expression.

"I don't care if Barbra herself stopped you on the street and asked you to open for her next performance," Rachel said. "You promised you'd be here. _Finn_ is here. With his very pretty, very blonde, very tall, and I'm sure very lovely girlfriend. And while I do not need moral support, because I am a grown, independent woman with a career and a love life of my own, I do require the punctual presence of my best friend so that he can stay beside me the whole night and keep me from looking in any way lonely."

"Rachel, we only agreed that we would - " Kurt began.

"You _promised_ , Kurt," she said and began to lead him away into the house.

Kurt looked over his shoulder at Blaine with a helpless, baffled shrug, and Blaine shrugged back and followed them.

Rachel brought them into the huge kitchen where a bunch of girls Blaine sort of recognized were sitting around the breakfast nook table, a collection of half-full red plastic cups in front of them. Blaine could see around the corner a similarly familiar collection of guys sprawled around the TV in the living room, playing video games. He noticed Tina and Mike there, a few of the New Directions kids he'd met last year, and some other faces he recognized from Kurt's pictures.

"Kurt!" Sugar, wearing a shockingly pink fur bolero, jumped up and engulfed Kurt in a hug.

"Hello," Kurt said, patting her stiffly on the back. He rubbed his fingertips together afterwards, like he was offended by the texture of the fur.

"I made the most totally delicious strawberry-raspberry-lemonade margaritas!" she said, bouncing back on her toes. "Let me get you one!" She glanced over at Blaine and smiled at him before turning back to Kurt. "And one for your cutie, too."

"I'm the designated driver," Kurt told her. "But thank you."

"Okay! More for me!" She spun on her heel and sat back down again, leaving Blaine drink-less.

"So this is the boyfriend?" a dark-haired girl said, her eyes raking up and down over Blaine. "He's shorter than he looks in those gag-worthy pictures he keeps tagging you in. And I can't believe he lets you dress him like that."

"I don't dress him, Santana." Kurt pulled away from Rachel's hand and stalked over to the counter to investigate the soda there.

"Blaine is developing a style all his own," Rachel agreed, following Kurt like she was tethered to him. "And he is a perfectly nice height."

Santana looked with a raised eyebrow at Blaine's outfit again, and his heart fell as he wondered if maybe he should have worn something different than a cardigan and coordinating patterned shirt he knew would please Kurt. He couldn't do anything about how tall he was, but the clothes, at least, he had control over.

"I just can't believe of all the guys in New York you ended up with one who dresses like Orville Redenbacher," Santana said. "But then you dress like Brad Goreski on acid, so maybe your choices are limited."

Kurt didn't even turn around as he poured himself some soda. "Any pretense of you having a worthwhile opinion of fashion is negated by the fact that you wore the same outfit every day for three years of high school."

"It was my Cheerios uniform," Santana told him. "It was a status symbol."

"And sometimes she wore _my_ uniform," said a blonde girl from the opposite side of the table.

"And you wore one, too, Hummel," Santana said, sitting back in her chair with a smirk. "Though I bet you were sad yours didn't have a skirt."

"It's good to see you haven't let two years of college mature you in any way," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

Santana toasted him with her drink. "Why would I? I'm already fucking awesome."

"Wait, you wore a cheerleading uniform?" Blaine asked Kurt, because that was what it sounded like, and that couldn't possibly be right, could it?

Kurt handed a cup to Blaine. "I can't tell you how much I haven't missed this side of you, Santana," he said, not answering the question.

Blaine tried again. "Kurt, did you - "

"Ladies," Rachel started with a clap of her hands, and her eyes darted to Blaine, "and gentlemen, we are getting off track."

"You're not supposed to walk on the train tracks," the blonde girl said. She had to be Brittany.

"The point of our evening is not to bring up old arguments," Rachel said. "The point of our evening is to share with each other how we are growing and maturing. And possibly show off the new, wider range of our vocal talents."

"I thought the point of this party was to _party_ ," Santana said, tapping her cup on the table. "Which reminds me that my cup is empty. Margarita me, Sugar. I'm just getting warmed up. And I don't mean for singing."

"Okay!" Sugar bounced up to grab a pitcher from the counter.

"Heaven help us all," Kurt muttered.

Blaine took a sip of the drink Kurt had given him. It was only soda.

And despite the curious looks he was getting from Santana and a few of the others, no one had actually talked to _him_ yet, just about him, which was weird.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

Sometime later - after Rachel had arranged it so that Kurt was sitting next to her at the table and Blaine had set a chair for himself on Kurt's other side, after Mercedes had shown up with a bottle of peppermint schnapps in one hand and cheap vodka in the other, after the girls and Kurt were deeply involved in some sort of complicated debate about competition solos and diva-offs, whatever they were - Sam and Puck strolled into the kitchen.

"Don't let our testosterone get in the way of your chick-talk," Puck said with a nod at the table. "Just getting some beer. Our cooler's empty."

"Don't worry; you've never gotten in our way before," Mercedes said to him.

Sam helped Puck grab the last few six-packs from the refrigerator, and Blaine watched them with a little envy. He didn't really want one of Sugar's margaritas, but if he'd known there was beer so close by he would have gotten one for himself.

He wasn't feeling deliberately left out - because Kurt and some of the girls made an effort to make eye contact with him and such - but he had nothing to add to the conversation. He hadn't been at any of the events they were reminiscing about, and given that Rachel had a death-grip on Kurt's attention if not his arm, Blaine didn't know anyone there well enough to try to draw them into a side conversation without feeling like he was pulling them away from the friends they were there to visit. He was just relegated to smiling and laughing in the right places.

He wondered if this was how his mother felt at business dinners. Only she got to drink.

Blaine was startled out of his thoughts by a friendly bump on his shoulder. He looked up to see Sam stopped beside him.

"Do you want to come with us?" Sam asked him. "I mean, I remember you talking about playing Mario Kart and stuff, and the girls can get kind of intense when they get drunk, you know?"

"Um." Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was very precisely ticking off points on his long, lovely fingers as he spoke to Rachel and Mercedes.

"We have all of the beer," Sam added.

Blaine's breath blew out of him in a gust. Video games, beer, and people who saw him as more than arm candy… "I'm in." It would be just like parties with Sebastian, where they mingled on their own most of the night. That was fine.

Sam's face brightened with his kind smile, and he handed Blaine a bottle. "Cool."

"I'm going to go in the other room," Blaine said in Kurt's ear as he stood up.

Kurt looked over, his eyes darting to Sam in some surprise, but he said simply, "Have fun."

Blaine patted Kurt's shoulder, ignored the little outburst of semi-intoxicated giggles that followed, and trailed after Sam to the living room.

The guys moved around, their hands flexing on the controllers and their eyes fixed on the screen, to make room for the new arrivals, and Blaine felt immediately more at home pressed up between Finn and Sam on the burgundy sectional than he had next to his very own boyfriend in the kitchen. This was more of his element. He was used to the hum of trash talk and press of game-focused bodies moving back and forth as they tried to get any advantage over their opponents. With the taste of beer in his mouth he could almost feel like he was at Dalton or with his Alliance friends instead of with Kurt's friends, some of whom were his from meeting before or from being in New York.

Although Mike and Tina weren't in the living room anymore, but that didn't really matter. It still felt more like somewhere he belonged than listening to the girls and Kurt gossip in the kitchen.

For the first time that night, he actually felt like he could have fun.

"Blaine, can you take over from Rory?" Finn said a few minutes later, leaning into him as he narrowly avoided being hit by a bazooka blast on the screen. "I need a partner who can do more than run into a corner."

"Sure," Blaine said, accepting the controller from Rory and figuring out which pane on the huge flat screen TV on the wall was his; it wasn't too difficult, because only one of the perspectives was pointed into a crevice between a broken-down tank and a cement wall.

"Like you didn't blow yourself up with a grenade earlier," Artie said. His fingers were moving swiftly on his controller.

"Dude, it wasn't my fault that wall was there," Finn said. "I didn't know I couldn't throw it over the top."

"I didn't want to play this game, anyway," Rory said with some relief. "I don't know why Mike tagged me."

"It was an emergency," Puck said.

"Is everything okay?" Blaine asked.

"Not that kind of emergency. They're off taking advantage of the party," Puck replied, smashing one of the buttons repeatedly with his thumb and swearing when he didn't manage to shoot Finn's character on the screen. "They're probably making out in the coat closet or something. Mike's parents are super strict when he's home."

Blaine got his character onto the scaffolding and flicked his eyes up to see where his opponents were in the field. "Oh," he said. He remembered sneaking off with Sebastian at Warbler parties as the night went on, but he hadn't even considered that the night could give him private time with Kurt. He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea, even if a part of him was aching to be able to do more than sneak a few kisses with Kurt at his parents' house or in the car before Kurt's curfew.

It didn't matter, though, because he knew Kurt wouldn't go for it. Not with people around. He'd probably be lucky if he got to sit next to Kurt again now that he'd left. But that was all right, because if that was what Kurt wanted then Blaine was okay with it. He could still have fun.

Blaine leaned forward and took another drink of beer as he used his other hand to keep his character climbing.

"But don't worry," Puck went on. "Sugar's room's still free, and I bet your boy would feel right at home. It's all pink and frilly."

"Shut up, Puck," Finn replied absently before Blaine had even processed the comment. "Kurt's room isn't pink and frilly."

A figure turned a corner just at the edge of Blaine's screen, and he changed course to follow.

"Damn it!" Artie cried, flinging his arms up into the air in frustration as explosions sounded from the speakers. "Where did you _come_ from, Finn?"

"Close enough," Puck said, continuing his train of thought. "I remember how he decorated that love nest of yours before your parents got hitched."

No matter that the talk was about a Kurt from long ago that he only knew a little about, Blaine told himself not to get pulled into the argument. He didn't have anything to say about it, even if it all felt wrong, and Kurt didn't want to make a big deal of their relationship. He probably wouldn't want Blaine to jump in.

He had his character grab a new weapon from the ground and went in search of that figure. He had to be around somewhere, and Blaine was pretty sure it wasn't Finn. For one, they were high up on the catwalks, and the other guy hadn't fallen off.

"It wasn't pink," Finn said. "And he's my _brother_."

Puck let out a triumphant laugh. "Didn't seem to bother him. Hey, look, a sniper rifle. Show your ugly face _now_ , Finn. Come out, come out, wherever you are."

"He's up top," Sam told Finn. "Up on the turret."

"That's violating the bro code, dude!" Puck said.

"Like you should talk about the bro code," Finn said. "Who was it who slept with my girlfriend?"

"Burn," Artie said.

"That's old news," Puck told him. "Unless you think I have a chance with Caitlin."

Finn reached out with his foot and nudged Puck's back, pushing him forward. "You're trying to distract me, and it's not going to work. You're still going down, Puck. Oh, fuck!"

Artie groaned and put his face in his palms. "Says the guy who just fell down the elevator shaft."

"Fuck," Finn said. "How do I get out of this thing?"

Blaine edged around the corner of the catwalk and looked for any sign of movement. After a moment of waiting, he decided he was safe and moved out into the open.

"Still in the turret," Sam said, his voice pitched toward Blaine's ear.

Blaine nodded his thanks. This was the tricky part, getting across the high catwalk in clear view of the turret without Puck seeing him and using that sniper rifle. He was an easy target, but he also knew that if he stayed quiet Puck might forget he was on the field, too. It was a common mistake when drinking. He'd taken advantage of it many times and had fallen for it, too.

"Margaritas, anyone?" Sugar asked, coming out with the pitcher and a stack of cups. Caitlin and Santana followed behind her, and they insinuated themselves onto the couches. "I just made more! They're totally yummy!"

"Who needs girl drinks when we have beer?" Puck asked.

"Come on, Artie. You know you like them," Sugar said, perching herself on his lap and jiggling the pitcher in front of him.

"I can't see the screen, woman," he said.

Blaine held his breath as he neared the other end of the catwalk.

Sugar got up. "Fine," she said with a pout, but she poured him a generous cupful. "But you can have a drink anyway, even though you're mean to me."

"Way to be strong," Santana drawled. "And why aren't you going after Finn, Puck? He's stuck in an elevator shaft. It'd be like shooting fish in a barrel. Really tall, uncoordinated fish."

"Too easy," Puck replied, flicking back and forth between weapons. "I can wait for him."

"You do realize that the pocket-sized gay - " she began, but Sam spoke over her.

"I'll have one!" Sam announced to Sugar. "A margarita, I mean. It sounds great?"

She bounced over, obscuring all of their views of the screen, and Blaine leaned into Finn to try to peer around her. "Great!" She filled a cup for him, some of the liquid splashing over the side and dripping on Blaine's jeans. He couldn't worry about it. He was so close to Puck. If he could just get across that one last bridge…

"Come on, dudes, how many times do I have to tell you? Beer and shots, those are men's drinks," Puck said, swiveling the camera on his pane of the screen.

"It's good," Sam said with some wonder. He looked into his cup and then took another sip.

Puck snorted. "That is seriously gay."

"Seriously delicious!" Sugar said. She flopped down on Rory's lap and put the pitcher on the side table. "Who is winning? And why is Finn jumping up and down in a hole?"

Blaine switched weapons and lobbed the grenade through the turret door at Puck's back.

"What the - ?" Puck began as the room erupted into cheers and explosions took over the screen.

"Awesome!" Finn said, throwing his arms in the air.

A huge weight lifting from his chest at having made it safely, Blaine grinned at him and met Finn's raised fist to bump it.

"Like you had anything to do with it," Puck told Finn. "You still were stuck."

"Dude, there's a ladder in the elevator shaft," Finn replied. "I wasn't stuck; I was a _distraction_."

"You were amazing, honey," Caitlin said, pressing a kiss to Finn's cheek.

Puck turned to Blaine with narrowed eyes, like he wasn't sure whether to respect him or tell him off. "I thought we'd bonded over Ultimate."

"We did, but all's fair in love and war," Blaine reminded him after taking a couple of long gulps of his beer. He decided it wouldn't be too much to say a little more. "And Kurt doesn't like pink."

"Snap!" Artie said.

"Aw," Caitlin said as she smiled over at Blaine.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Santana said with a fake heave and a hand pressed to her chest.

"Not on the couch!" Sugar said. "But totally go for it on the rug, because I want Daddy to buy a new one. This one's, like, three years old, and it's ugly."

Mercedes peered around the corner from the kitchen. "Do we want to know what the cheering was about?"

"We just beat Puck," Finn told her.

"And Blaine totally defended Kurt's honor," Sam said.

"Um." Blaine swallowed and reached for his beer. He _had_ , he wanted to, but he knew he probably shouldn't be drawing attention to it.

"Hey, Kurt," Mercedes called behind her. "Your boy is defending your honor from Puck. With explosions. Like boys do."

"What?" Kurt's voice came from the kitchen. A few seconds later, Kurt appeared in the doorway. "Should I even ask?" His eyes swept the room, met Blaine's for a brief but terrifying moment, and landed on Puck.

"I was just offering you two a place to hook up," Puck said, leaning back against the legs of the couch behind him. "I was looking out for you." He toasted Kurt with his beer.

"I'm sure you were," Kurt said coolly.

"But Blaine blew him up," Sugar added. "Really sneakily."

Kurt turned his gaze back to Blaine. "Did you?"

"Finn helped," Blaine replied, not sure whether he should be apologizing. He didn't _think_ it was wrong to do what he did, but Kurt was so prickly, and maybe it was Blaine coming on too strong or assuming too much when Kurt was so clear that he didn't want his relationship with Blaine to be front and center.

"Oh, yeah, he jumped up and down in a hole," Santana said, stretching her arms high over her head. To Blaine's amusement, a number of the guys watched her chest without apparent awareness. "And I need another drink."

"Oh, have a margarita!" Sugar said. She leaned forward on Rory's lap to pour her one.

Shaking her head, Santana got up. "No, I need a real one. 'Cedes, where's that vodka?"

"The freezer," Mercedes replied, and a smile bloomed across her face. "Shots?"

"Shots," Santana agreed.

"Shots!" Sugar cried, clapping her hands.

Kurt stepped aside, his hands in his jacket pockets, as most of the room emptied out into the kitchen, leaving Rory and Finn changing the game to Mario Kart and Blaine feeling awkward and unsure of what he should do as he moved away from Finn now that there was room to do so. He expected Kurt to do what Sebastian would have done in parties past, which was go back with his friends, but instead Kurt wandered over, perched on the arm of the chair beside Blaine's part of the couch with one leg crossed over the other, and tilted his head. "You defended my honor?" he asked, quiet but clearly surprised.

"Um." Blaine tried to figure out what Kurt wanted him to say. They weren't alone, and yet he wasn't going to lie. "Sort of."

"It was awesome," Finn said from the other end of the couch.

"We made a good team," Blaine told him, and Finn's smile made him feel a little more sure of himself.

"Puck has always been and will always be an ass," Kurt said with a sigh. "I'm sorry he brought you into it."

"He didn't," Blaine said, frowning a little. "He was just saying stupid things, and I had the opportunity to blow him up, so…"

"Stupid things about me," Kurt said. He glanced over toward the kitchen, his eyes going distant.

"He's just Puck," Finn assured him.

"I know." Kurt stood up and smoothed the legs of his jeans. "I'm used to it."

"Body shots!" Brittany yelled from the other room. "Me first! Do me first!"

"Is she going to take her shirt off?" Rory asked sadly, barely catching his vehicle from going off of the track on the screen.

"Probably," Finn replied. A second passed. "Want to go see?"

The two boys dropped their controllers, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone in the living room, Kurt looking toward the kitchen and Blaine looking at Kurt. He looked so pulled together, so held together, so untouchable, and it made Blaine hurt deep in his chest to see it. These were Kurt's _friends_ , and Kurt still looked that way.

Kurt's attention refocused after a minute, and his expression softened when he looked at Blaine. "I was thinking of going out onto the patio," he said, motioning to the big glass doors at the end of the living room. "I could use some air. Would you like to join me?"

"Absolutely," Blaine said, and he walked quickly over so that he could open the door for Kurt. He got a little twist of a smile in reply.

They settled at the edge of the stone patio, still lit by the lights inside but not directly in their glare. It was mild for winter in Ohio, and Blaine only needed to hunch his shoulders for warmth.

"I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing with Puck," Blaine said, leaning his hip against the stone wall that formed the boundary of the space.

Kurt looked out into the landscaped, artfully lit yard beyond them. "You didn't," he said. "There's no stopping Puck, but I still appreciate the thought."

"Finn spoke up, too. And Sam helped me."

Kurt hummed an acknowledgment, and he sighed before he turned and hopped up to sit on the wall, making him that much taller than Blaine than he usually was. Blaine didn't mind looking up at him, though, especially not when the glow from the house was making the planes of his face and hair even more defined and interesting. He looked older, maybe even a little ethereal and otherworldly, and yet the resignation in his eyes was entirely human.

"They're both good people," Kurt said. "Not the brightest, but kind." He met Blaine's gaze again and reached out to play the tips of his fingers along the collar of Blaine's sweater as Blaine stepped in front of him. It made Blaine shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cool night air. "You know I have a soft spot for kindness."

"I have a soft spot for you," Blaine said.

Kurt smiled at him then, his face lighting up with a flash of delight, and Blaine was flooded with relief to see it. He was still in there, and things were okay. "And I have a soft spot for _you_ ," Kurt replied, tugging a little at Blaine's collar. "I wouldn't have looked at them twice if I'd had any idea what having this would be like." He smoothed his fingers a little down Blaine's chest, leaving sparks in their wake. "But instead I made a fool of myself pining for boys I not only couldn't have but didn't really want. Can you imagine trying to _talk_ to them?"

Blaine laughed a little; he and Kurt never ran out of topics of conversation, but he could see how talking with Finn or Sam could become problematic for him. "I did the same thing," Blaine reminded him. "Except I got one of them."

Kurt nodded, and his eyes grew serious. "This is so much better."

"It is," Blaine agreed, and he looked up into Kurt's face. He leaned in his, putting his hands on the wall on either side of Kurt, not touching his legs with his body, although it would have been so very easy to slide up against them, between them, and he might have done so if this were a private corner of a park in New York. But as secluded as the Mottas' yard was, he knew Kurt felt less at ease there, so Blaine kept his distance.

Still, he had to murmur, "I want to kiss you."

Kurt's expression went wistful. "I want you to kiss me," he agreed in a low whisper. His eyes darted to the living room behind Blaine. "But not here."

"I know. I'm not going to. But I still want to."

Between them, hidden from view from the house, Kurt pressed his hand over Blaine's heart. "I can't tell you how much I want to. You defended my honor." His laugh was almost disbelieving. "In their own language, with explosions."

"I did." It was hard for Blaine to breathe with Kurt's hand there; the touch was light on top of layers of clothing, but it felt so important.

"Thank you," Kurt said. "I've never had that."

"You do now, Kurt," Blaine promised.

Kurt's expression melted into something even gentler and happier, and he nodded, the tips of his fingers pressing a little into Blaine's chest before he drew his hand back. "I'm sorry you had to get caught up in it, though," he said. His eyes went sad again. "I'm used to it. The comments, the rumors, the innuendo, the thinly disguised revulsion or titillating novelty, it's what they've always done. And I was insanely naïve and obvious about my crushes back then, but what we have isn't cheap or a punch line or - "

"I get it, Kurt," Blaine said, and he thought maybe he finally did understand instead of just accept Kurt's hesitation around his friends. The Warblers had teased him about Sebastian from time to time when things were going well, but it was nothing like the casual disrespect and stereotypical assumptions Kurt's friends tossed his way. Of course Kurt would want to keep his heart protected from that if he had the choice; maybe that was some of why he'd been so much more open at his own house, because it had felt safer. "Even if they mean well, they make it a joke. Us. Our feelings. And you don't want that. That's why you try not to give them a target."

"It doesn't mean I don't love what we have, Blaine," Kurt said quickly, his voice going a little rough and his focus snapping back to Blaine. "I don't want you to think that. I'm not hiding. I would never hide any of it. I care about you; I'm not ashamed of that, not for a minute."

"I know," Blaine said, but Kurt just kept talking, growing more animated, upset.

"It doesn't matter what they say. It's never mattered to me, really. I am who I am. They can't pull us down or make us anything less than what we are - " His eyes glistened with fierce tears. " - but I honestly just don't want to _hear_ it. Not about this, not when I finally have it. I just want to _have_ it. I don't want to _hear_ them. It isn't _about_ them."

"I get it, Kurt," Blaine said again. He rubbed his hands soothingly over Kurt's knees, keeping them respectful.

Kurt blinked back his emotion, drew in a shaky breath, and looked down at Blaine. "I don't care what they think," he said. "I care what you think."

Blaine wanted to kiss him so _much_ it hurt, and he had to wait a second for the rush of need to pass before he could reply. "I just want you to be happy," he said around a massive lump in his throat. "Kurt, that's all I care about. I want you to be happy, and I want to be with you. And I want you to know that I take your feelings very seriously."

"I do know that." Kurt cupped Blaine's cheek in his cool palm. He looked into Blaine's eyes for a long time, then glanced over Blaine's head at the house, seemed to steel himself, and leaned down to press his mouth to Blaine's in an unexpected, whisper-soft brush of a kiss. "I know. I feel the same way about you."

Blaine swayed close enough that Kurt's legs were brushing his stomach and tried not to die from the waves of yearning crashing over him. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to put a door between them and everyone else in the world and show him just how much he felt for him, for his heart, for his bravery at surviving so much Blaine had had to run from. Instead he said, "I miss the freedom we have in New York."

Kurt laughed, the tension of the moment breaking in an instant, and he said, "It's really different, isn't it? I can't believe I can't even have you in my room."

"Have me?" Blaine said, his eyebrows raising and his mouth going dry at the idea.

Kurt swatted Blaine's shoulder. "Which I meant _without_ innuendo, although that I do miss, too."

"Me, too."

"Soon." Kurt's cheeks looked a little flushed, and Blaine would have bet money it wasn't from the cold. It was adorable and enticing all at once.

"Let me take you on a date," Blaine said, smiling up at him. "This week, let me take you out. I still want to spend time with just you, even if we can't go to the MOMA or curl up on your bed. Let's have an Ohio date. A movie and dinner? Or shopping at the mall instead of a movie?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows at the suggestion, but he said, "Okay," and extended a regal hand to Blaine to be helped off of the stone wall. "But I will be wearing a coat if we are spending time outside. It's freezing, and I am _not_ dressed for it."

Blaine led him back toward the warmth of the house and didn't give into the urge to put an arm around him. "You have amazing coats. You should wear one, anyway, even if we're only outside walking from the car to a store."

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt said with approval, "there are so many things I like about you."

Smiling to himself, Blaine kept hold of Kurt's hand until they went inside, and then he let it go without complaint or an echo of rejection because he knew that Kurt would still be his, even across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spoiler-free, so please don't tell me anything about what's coming ahead! <3


	4. Chapter 4

15\. Ohio Date

The date started well enough, even if Mercedes - who had come over theoretically for final outfit approval, but Kurt was sure it was more to see if Blaine met her standards, since she hadn't spent much time with him at Sugar's party and since she had to know Kurt wouldn't let her change what he was wearing - insisted on answering the front door so that Kurt could make an entrance.

That certainly suited his own preferences for creating a moment, and so he got to see Blaine looking bowled over when Kurt reached the bottom of the stairs, only it wasn't because just Kurt was impeccably dressed - which Blaine _had_ to be getting used to by now, Kurt knew - but because Mercedes was giving Blaine an approving kiss on his cheek before she waved her fingers at Kurt and left them alone.

Blaine watched her leave with an expression of astonishment on his face and kept staring at the door even after she closed it behind her.

"Everything all right?" Kurt asked, growing a little miffed that Blaine's attention was diverted. There was getting used to Kurt's incredible fashion sense, and then there was _ignoring_ it.

"Yes, uh - " Blaine checked to be sure there wasn't anyone else within sight in the house, then leaned forward and gave Kurt a long, soft, slow kiss that made Kurt's toes curl in his boots and his fingers dig into Blaine's coat. It was so lush and tender, so sweet that he could barely breathe, barely think, barely keep his feet on the ground. All he could do was cling to Blaine and get lost in it.

When it was over, he blinked his eyes open to see Blaine beaming at him. Blaine, his boyfriend, his sometimes knight in shining armor, somehow in his very own front hall, looking handsome and just so happy to be there to take him out.

"She told me I'm doing a good job," Blaine said.

"You are," Kurt said, feeling like he was in a dream, because he'd lived off of imagining a scene so close to this one for so many years. He had a charming, handsome, caring, talented boyfriend right there in his house in Lima. "And she can't have you. You're taken."

Blaine laughed and offered Kurt his arm. "Yes, I am. By you. Are you ready?"

Kurt swallowed down his pounding heart, nodded, and allowed himself to be guided to Blaine's waiting car.

Everything felt wonderful and warm as they drove, Blaine's hand stretched across the gearshift to hold Kurt's on his thigh, and at first the mall was a perfect place to be spending time. It wasn't the array of boutiques and consignment shops in New York, but Kurt had spent enough time in the mall over the years to know how to find just the sorts of special things he was looking for. Blaine was a good companion, too: untiring, happy to hold bags, and apparently not at all bored by Kurt's meandering but deliberate path through the stores he chose.

It was wonderful not to be shopping in Ohio as one of a group of girls, too, because no matter how he'd been considered in high school, no matter how easily he'd been drawn back into that pattern of socialization at the party the night before, he was _not_ a girl or an accessory to them. With Blaine, he could just be himself, like he always was.

And yet Kurt couldn't help but notice that the sales clerk gave him a disapproving stare when he ran his hands down Blaine's back to smooth the sweater he was making Blaine try on. He was brought up short when he remembered he _shouldn't_ reach out for Blaine's hand to stay together when they walked through a crush of teens milling around outside of the trendy fashion chain of the moment. He felt a pang of loss when they sat across from each other with a restorative cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll to share and tucking his calf against Blaine's like he usually did felt like a risk instead of a comfort.

It wasn't a date. It wasn't a time to flirt and smile, touch their feet together or sit a little too close. It wasn't anything like they were able to do in New York.

It was a very nice platonic day out in Ohio with his very attractive and entirely untouchable boyfriend.

Kurt watched a group of high school students in Westerville letter jackets walk by and felt very out of place, more than he ever had. He didn't _want_ to fit in here, but he suddenly felt like even though he had a boyfriend and a wonderful life he still couldn't have them here. He and Blaine couldn't actually be themselves, even now.

Instead they had an anemic reflection of what they had at school, and it left him feeling cold and sad, undernourished, like a plant fading without enough sunlight.

At least it was only temporary.

Blaine jostled his leg gently with his own. "Are you okay? You're quiet."

"This is strange," Kurt said, focusing back on Blaine.

"The cinnamon roll?" Blaine asked. He pulled it apart on his napkin. "I think it's a little undercooked."

Kurt waved his fingers around them. "Being on a date here. New Yorkers don't stare at _anything_. I think I've counted a dozen people staring at my jeans alone."

"They _are_ amazing," Blaine said. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "And they make your legs look even better than usual."

"Thank you," Kurt said, feeling himself flush but thrilled Blaine had noticed, "but that right there is an example. You wouldn't have had to care who overheard in New York."

Blaine nodded thoughtfully and had a sip of his coffee. "I know, but we're not there; we're here."

"I know." Kurt pushed his paper cup away on the tabletop with the tips of his fingers. "It's fine. We'll be back in a few days, and this is still nice, being with you."

"I think so," Blaine said, smiling at him in that warm way he always did, and it was beginning to mean all sorts of things about safety and being home that Kurt was intoxicated by and completely unable to resist.

But he could also see two girls look at his new Westwood sweater with a sneer from over Blaine's shoulder, and he felt that weight on his chest the way he always used to in high school. He didn't fit here. He didn't _care_ , he wasn't going to change, but he still felt it.

Temporary. It was temporary.

"Where would you like to go to dinner?" Blaine asked. "I was planning on Breadstix, because Finn said you used to go there a lot, but if there's something else you'd like it is completely up to you."

Kurt thought about sitting at a table across from Blaine with a waitress who would watch them suspiciously, with sub-par food, and with no opportunity at all to show any affection to each other besides with their eyes, and he just didn't feel like doing it. He would, because he wanted to spend the time with Blaine, but he just didn't _want_ to. He was used to more. He wanted more. He didn't like being unable to have it.

"I don't care," he said. "Breadstix is fine."

Blaine cleared his throat nervously and said, "There's another option. I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

"What's that?" Kurt said, surprised by Blaine's sudden discomfort.

"My parents aren't home," Blaine said. "They left this morning and won't be back until Saturday. We could… if you wanted, we could go to my house. I know it's not a date, and I want to take you out. I like taking you out. But this _is_ really strange, and you don't seem happy, and I just want to be with you, so…"

Kurt stared at him for the span of a breath, and then he couldn't stop his smile from spreading. A place with no one to bother them, no one to glare at them, no one to judge them, no one to see a kiss, no one to care but them. It sounded like heaven. He bounced up straight in his chair. "Yes, please. Let's go to your house. Can we cook dinner together?"

Blaine laughed, a light-hearted and very welcome sound. "Wait until you see the kitchen. I don't think I could _stop_ you from cooking."

16\. The Anderson House

Blaine's kitchen was amazing. Like the front hall, which Kurt had walked through on the way into the house, it was large, impeccably tasteful, and perfectly neat. It was staged like it was in a magazine, with a bowl of perfect oranges artfully placed on the polished, honey-colored-granite-topped island. The six-burner cooktop, the built-in coffee machine, and the double ovens were gleaming stainless steel, while the rest of the appliances were carefully disguised behind panels that matched the dark cherry cabinets. It was as sterile and cold as a photograph. It was incredible.

Kurt couldn't decide whether he wanted to stand in the doorway and admire every pull, every finish, every coordinating bar stool at the island, every inch of mirror-bright stone or whether he wanted to throw open all of the cabinets and use every burner and appliance at his reach. It was almost too beautiful to use, almost too beautiful _not_ to use.

Blaine seemed to have no such concerns, but then again he was used to it. He lived there. He just walked in, plunked their two paper shopping bags onto the long stretch of counter by the sink, and started to pull out the ingredients they'd picked up on the store on the way over.

"Kurt?" he asked over his shoulder when Kurt continued to stand in the doorway with his eyes wide and his breath caught in his throat.

"Sorry," Kurt said, making himself move. The kitchen wasn't any less overwhelming standing in the middle of it, but running his hand along the ogee edge of the cool, liquid-smooth stone counter got him over his nerves about it being too perfect to mess up by cooking. He _had_ to cook in this kitchen. It would be a dream come true. "You were right."

Blaine set the container of eggs down next to the bag. "About what?"

"That you wouldn't be able to stop me from cooking in here," Kurt said with a helpless laugh, and Blaine grinned over at him.

"I knew it."

Kurt stepped over to him and began to sort the groceries. He'd bought the ingredients for dinner omelets without knowing what wonders this kitchen would have let him create, and he wondered if it was worth trying to whip up a soufflé instead. But then Blaine came up behind him and slid his arms around his waist, his chest against Kurt's back, and Kurt knew as he shivered at the touch that there was no sense in making anything that required his concentration. It would be a total disaster. He was going to be too distracted by Blaine.

Blaine kissed the side of Kurt's throat in a gentle touch and nuzzled his nose against his hair. "Hi," he said, his voice going husky.

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment as the single, gravely word traveled through his veins and out along his skin. He hadn't come here for this, he had chosen to go to Blaine's house just to have time with him where they didn't have to worry about anyone else, but he suddenly felt like he was tinder-dry and ready to catch fire after a week - a lifetime - of being parched for affection, and he twisted around in Blaine's hold, caught Blaine's perfect, slightly raspy cheek in his palm, and kissed him at first with great precision and care because he wanted to show how much this mattered, and then hard, harder, as much as he could because he finally _could_.

Blaine groaned against his lips and pulled him closer before backing him against the sharp edge of the counter, and he kissed Kurt back with a passion and need that would have been overwhelming if Kurt didn't feel the same way. He felt like he'd been forcing himself to be one shadow of himself or another for days - Kurt the respectful son, Kurt the almost-girl, Kurt the chaste boyfriend, and he knew it hadn't been that long, but in some ways it felt like a lifetime - and now he didn't have to. Now he could just do what he wanted, and what he wanted was to kiss Blaine.

"Kurt," Blaine said, one hand sliding lower to grip Kurt's hip while the other tangled in Kurt's hair and kept him steady. His mouth was so hot and a little desperately awkward on Kurt's. "God, Kurt."

Kurt could feel his blood rushing like a torrent through him, his arousal surging into life, and a whimper was the most coherent response he could give. He felt dizzy from the touch. He felt like he might faint. He felt like he might fly. He wondered if he'd ever be used to this, to his body driving him and it being okay, because it was, because it was Blaine, because this wasn't empty at all, because this was a way to express his feelings, not just a break from them.

And this was Blaine wanting to express _his_ feelings, too, his feelings about Kurt, which they'd been having to keep at bay all week.

"I've missed this," Blaine said with a low laugh. He mouthed along Kurt's jaw and down his throat, and Kurt drew in a sharp, shaking breath at the sensation. "The way you smell. The way you taste."

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt said helplessly, running his hands up and down Blaine's strong back. He'd missed it, too, being wanted, being close, being able to touch as much as he wished. He'd felt wrapped up and muffled by other people's expectations, but now there was none of that. There was only them here.

"I'm happy - " Blaine unbuttoned the collar of Kurt's shirt, the sure movements of his fingers making Kurt's knees weak at the entirely accurate assumption that he was just allowed to do that without asking, the first person who had been. " - we got to do other things, Kurt." He pushed the fabric aside and dipped his mouth to the skin that had just been bared, and Kurt held him close and stroked the nape of Blaine's neck, feeling the muscles and tendons there flex beneath the skin. "Not just this. I wanted all of that. But I missed this, too."

"Me, too," Kurt assured him, threading his fingers through Blaine's hair and getting a shiver in response.

"Fuck," Blaine said, almost a whisper, and crowded in closer against him. He looked up at Kurt, his eyes dark, and kissed him again with a fierce determination. "I don't - I can blow you. I want to." He kissed the edge of Kurt's mouth, the tender spot beneath his ear that always made his breath catch. "Let me. Right here."

Kurt's head spun at the thought of Blaine on his knees, his mouth so amazingly fervent and hot on him the way it always was, but something about the idea felt wrong. "Blaine, I - "

Blaine leaned into him, his thigh pressing against Kurt's nascent erection. "You'll like it. I promise you'll like it." There was a needy thread in his voice that Kurt wasn't sure how to process.

"I know I would," Kurt said with an almost hysterical laugh, because the thought that he wouldn't was ridiculous. Blaine would make sure he would _love_ it.

"Then why aren't you saying yes?" Blaine asked. He lifted his head from Kurt's throat, which made it a little easier for Kurt to think and a lot harder for him to find the right words, because there was a hurt blooming in Blaine's eyes that he wanted to make disappear. "We have time alone together for the first time in days, and why aren't you saying yes?"

"Because - " Kurt started, trying to figure out what he wanted and how to say it.

Blaine watched him, waiting, looking increasingly more unsure, and Kurt didn't want him to look like that. He didn't want Blaine to feel even an inkling of insecurity around him. That was the whole point. Kurt knew he had been asking Blaine to hold back around him in public in ways that weren't entirely natural to him, and now for once there was no reason for either of them to hold back. And Kurt didn't want to.

"Because," Kurt said, taking a breath and running his fingers through Blaine's hair to soothe them both, "we have _hours_. And as much as I'd really, really like what you're offering, I want to take hours. I want to have dinner together, I want you to show me around your house so I can see where you grew up, and then I want to go to your room and take hours with each other." He watched the movement of his fingertips and felt suddenly nervous. Maybe he was asking for something Blaine didn't want, the idea of getting to take advantage this big house they had at their disposal, with no homework, no parents, no hall-mates, no deadlines, no classes, nothing to bother them. Kurt knew he was a dreamer, a romantic. Maybe Blaine was more practical to want to get off quickly and then spend the rest of their time before his curfew doing other things, but… "Can we take hours?" he asked softly.

Blaine stared at him, frozen. He didn't move, didn't even blink, and then his eyes went liquid and dark, his face crumpled, and his embrace turned from a seduction into one of his enveloping hugs. He buried his face against Kurt's shoulder and said, "Of course we can. I'm sorry."

"You really don't need to apologize," Kurt murmured against his hair.

"I wasn't thinking," Blaine said with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry."

"Blaine, you don't have to - " Kurt began again.

Blaine cut him off with a firm kiss. "I'm crazy about you," he said, looking directly into Kurt's eyes with something like gratitude.

Kurt's smile was wobbly from the intensity of Blaine's expression, from the melancholy fact that Blaine still wasn't talking about love with him, and from the suspicion that they had happened upon a new scar that goddamn Sebastian had left, Sebastian who had probably _never_ wanted to do anything special with Blaine. "I feel the same way about you," he promised.

"I know," Blaine said, smiling as he leaned in again, and they traded a lingering series of much less fiery kisses and caresses until Kurt finally was sure Blaine was okay and he, himself, would be able to stand on his own two feet without swooning.

The specifics of cooking dinner with Blaine in the Andersons' kitchen were much like what he'd experienced cooking with him in his own house, minus the robotic good manners Blaine had put on in his terror and plus the extravagant array of cooking utensils and equipment that would put a Food Network kitchen to shame. Mostly, Kurt took the lead, delegating chopping of ingredients and fetching of pans to his agreeable sous-chef and rewarding swift compliance with a kiss. They were a good team, and dinner went smoothly.

They ate their meal of savory omelets, frisée salads, and fresh crusty bread at the breakfast nook table, their free hands linked together beside their plates and their feet tangled beneath the table, and Kurt found himself unable to stop smiling. He could manage to tamp it down to an acceptable curl at the corner of his mouth, but he couldn't stop it entirely.

He'd loved having Blaine at his house for a meal with his family. It had made his heart swell in his chest to see his _boyfriend_ there at the table with them, nearly a part of the family, especially once Blaine had relaxed enough that he was acting mostly like himself. It was almost what he'd always imagined when he dreamed of having a boyfriend to bring home for holidays. It was wonderful to have someone sitting by his side and helping him tell stories, jumping up to take part in clearing the dishes and making his dad start to thaw with his irresistible good nature.

But this was part of what he'd imagined, too, a little further down the line: he and his significant other alone in their elegant house, having an intimate but casual dinner with linen napkins like the ones Blaine had brought out for them, sparkling water in crystal wine glasses, and a pair of candles on the table casting them both in flattering, romantic light. Even a simple meal was imbued with a sense of occasion, because they made it that way. And then the night didn't have to be over.

His own house was the actual present, part of life home from college with family around and in the way, but this was the future. Maybe it was the future, anyway. It was still a long way off in Kurt's life before he could have anything like this, a home and a husband of his own, even if Blaine stayed with him, but it brought it a little closer to be able to have this moment. It felt more possible, less of a fantasy to be hoped for and more of a goal to be worked toward.

And it was honestly just amazing to watch Blaine in the candles' glow enjoying the meal they had prepared together and smiling back at him like he was a miracle in the flesh for being there with him. Kurt felt that smile deep into his chest.

Ever the gentleman, Blaine offered to wash the dishes after they were finished eating, and Kurt, also a gentleman, offered to help him. So they rolled up their sleeves and companionably cleaned up the kitchen, and when they were finished if Kurt found himself sighing dreamily at the wiped counters and the gleaming sink, empty once more, he decided it wasn't problematic for their relationship if he was having lustful thoughts about a room and not another actual person, as long as he didn't let it color his view of Blaine. It wouldn't be acceptable to date him for his kitchen if everything else between them faded.

But, he thought as he swept his palm along the sleek counter one last time, he could certainly enjoy the room as an added bonus on vacations in Ohio. There was nothing wrong with that.

Blaine turned from shutting off the lights over the cooktop, slid his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and walked gracefully toward him in that slow stride he had that was almost like dancing. He looked older, more sure, a part of the future Kurt was imagining as well as this very moment in his life.

Kurt found himself pinned to the counter by how warm his heart felt and how beautiful Blaine looked in the low light, how certain of himself and of Kurt, and he knew in an instant if Blaine kissed him again he'd be putty in his hands. And it had nothing to do with the kitchen; it was entirely about this dream of his they were living out minute by minute together. It was entirely about Blaine.

But Blaine either didn't notice or didn't take advantage of the way Kurt was drawn so helplessly to him. He simply smiled and said, "Shall I show you the house?"

Kurt nodded, cleared his throat, and replied, "Please."

The rest of the house was in much of the same traditional, elegant style as the kitchen. The dining room was a picture of staid luxury in cream and gold. The hallway runner was a rich swath of navy oriental carpet. The living room was slightly warmer in honey yellow and robin's egg blue, but as pretty as it was Kurt found himself wanting to wrap his arms around himself from the chill of it all. There was no warmth or personality anywhere.

Kurt might be annoyed when Finn put his feet up on the coffee table or his dad pulled out that ugly old afghan his grandmother had knitted when he was cold watching television at night, but even if some days he felt like the people living in his house seemed to go out of their way to make it look shabbier than necessary, he also knew he could work on a bedazzling project down at the kitchen table without worrying about anything.

In this house, a single errant bead rolling onto the floor would be a catastrophe. A child's finger-painting, like the one his dad had hung framed on his bedroom wall for years of Kurt's youth, would have been unthinkable. It was a house to admire, but the more he saw of it it hardly seemed like a home to live in.

The beauty of the kitchen didn't make up for the rest of it.

"Here's the den," Blaine said, leading him into a room near the back of the house. It was small and cozy, with dark leather couches and a cherry cabinet with a flat-screen television on top. "This is where we watch TV."

"It's nice," Kurt said politely. It was a bit too painfully preppy for his taste, but it was the first room in which he could almost imagine a miniature Blaine playing quietly with blocks in the corner.

He drifted over to the display of pictures on the wall in the corner. There was a well-balanced arrangement of Cooper's headshots and stills of him from what looked like various film or TV sets but only one picture of Blaine, a formal one of him in his Dalton uniform, standing in the back of a group of what were probably the Warblers. He looked very much the same as now, only his smile wasn't real at all in the picture.

Disappointed that he wasn't able to catch a glimpse of an earlier Blaine he didn't know, Kurt turned back to find Blaine watching him, looking almost as serious as he did in the photograph.

"So, this is where you spent a lot of time?" Kurt asked him lightly, wanting to chase away the shadows that were lurking in his eyes.

Blaine nodded and blew out a breath through his nose like he was calming himself. "Yes, although after we got the big piano I was in the library a lot more."

Kurt stepped forward and slipped his arm through Blaine's, hoping that room might have better memories. "Show me?" He was grateful when he got a smile in return.

The library was dark, with heavily draped windows and mahogany leather chairs and couch situated by the built-in bookcases, while the baby grand piano took over the bulk of the room.

"What an amazing room for practicing," Kurt said. He was a little jealous, he couldn't lie; he'd had to plunk his way through his piano lesson homework out in the middle of the house with his father pretending he wasn't listening.

"It's out of the way, too. I didn't disturb anyone here when I was playing." Blaine sat down on the glossy piano bench.

"You play very well," Kurt told him. "I don't know how that would bother anyone."

Blaine ducked his head and touched his fingertips to the keys. "Thank you." He pressed a few chords and settled into something soft and classical. It sounded to Kurt's ears like Chopin. "My parents liked that I was good at it and could put it on my college apps, but they didn't always want to hear it when they had people over for dinner."

"I don't know," Kurt said, walking slowly around the room. The bookshelves were tidy, with perfect little knick-knacks and a few framed photos scattered among the various volumes of literature. "They could have hired you for background music and bragged about having a live musician while they were entertaining."

Chuckling, Blaine's fingers skipped over the keys, and the Chopin turned into Katy Perry. "I don't think they liked my set list."

Kurt smiled at him over his shoulder before looking more closely at the pictures: one of two people in '80s clothing, clearly Blaine's parents from early in their marriage; one of Cooper in a cap and gown; another formal portrait of Blaine in his Dalton uniform, this time by himself; and, ah, one of a teenage Cooper in front of a new car with his arm around a boy in a Brooks Brothers sweater vest. Kurt smiled at the tiny, earnest little Blaine.

He just didn't understand why there were so few pictures of Blaine around. He was certainly photogenic enough. But there were no candid pictures of any of the family anywhere, and the ones of Blaine seemed to have so little to do with who he was.

"I've been working on this, though," Blaine said a little shyly, the music pausing and then switching from pop to Cole Porter, "You'd Be So Nice to Come Home To" quickly seguing into "Let's Do It, Let's Fall in Love," and then into "You Do Something to Me."

"Blaine," Kurt said with delight, not sure how much he should read into the choice of songs but still thrilled by them, because he loved the composer so much and because they were all love songs, even if Blaine didn't mean the words exactly about him. He spun around, his hands clasped in front of him and his breath shallow.

Blaine shook his head, kept playing, and said, "You've been talking about him. It's not like it's Gershwin."

Kurt walked over to the bench, sat beside him, and waited until Blaine turned his face to look over before he caught his jaw and leaned in to kiss him. Despite how chaste the gesture was, the music stopped with a clatter of notes from the piano and a soft sigh from Blaine as he kissed him back so very earnestly.

"It's still de-lovely," Kurt told him with a smile when he pulled back a few inches. "Thank you for learning them for me."

"I'm terrible at Gershwin," Blaine replied, soft as a whisper, like it was important.

Kurt's mind raced, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. All night in this big, cold house, Blaine had been in turns needy, nervous, and watchful, as well as his usual sweet self. More was going on than Kurt understood. More was clearly going on than was about _him_. "Did you play Gershwin for Sebastian?"

Blaine jerked under Kurt's hands on his shoulders, and he turned back to the keys. "Once. He, uh - it was better if I stuck to classical." He started in on some Chopin again.

Kurt rubbed his hand up and down Blaine's back and thought for a moment before asking as gently as he possibly could, "Did you have Sebastian here a lot?" He didn't know what Sebastian's problems with Blaine had been, because it was unthinkable to Kurt to be anything less than thrilled with a private recital, but clearly he had done damage in this area, too.

Flinching, Blaine didn't look back at him. A flush crept up his throat and high onto his cheeks. "Tonight isn't about him, Kurt. He's not important."

"No," Kurt agreed. "But _you_ are." He stroked over Blaine's back and felt the vibrating tension in the muscles there. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Blaine drew in a slow breath, and his hands stilled on the keys. Then he turned on the bench so that he was facing Kurt and said very firmly, "I'm really happy _you_ are here. That's what I want to tell you. You're amazing. You make me happy, and you're what I want."

"You're what I want, too," Kurt whispered in reply, his heart suddenly jumping in his throat. He wished Blaine would talk to him about Sebastian if he was still weighing on Blaine's heart, but he couldn't make him if he didn't want to. At least he was saying good things about Kurt. "But I also want you to know you can talk to me."

"I do." Blaine reached out to take Kurt's hands in his own. His fingers were a little cold, and Kurt held onto them securely to warm them. "But there's nothing to say. It's nothing bad. This is just better." He looked down at their hands and then back up at Kurt's face and said almost sadly, "Everything I have with you is better."

Kurt didn't know many of the details of Blaine's relationship with Sebastian and certainly didn't know what memories the night was bringing up, but his imagination was more than sharp enough to paint a rough picture of what it might have been like to spend time with a remote boyfriend who didn't care all that much in a cold house where _nobody_ seemed to care all that much, really, if the paucity of pictures and the fact that his parents left at all when Blaine was home for vacation was any indication.

Even the idea of it left Kurt feeling lonely and unspecial, and that was the last thing he wanted for Blaine, because the whole _point_ of Blaine was that he was exceptionally special. He just didn't seem to know it.

Maybe he didn't know it because nobody told him.

Kurt knew he could tell Blaine he loved him. The words were right there on the tip of his tongue. He could tell him that. He could give him that. He knew it was true, because he'd felt these feelings long before they started dating, and they'd only grown. He knew why he couldn't stop smiling, why he couldn't stop thinking of him. He knew why he wanted him in his arms, in his home, with his friends and family. He knew why Blaine was a bright figure in his life, even if Kurt wasn't blinded to his faults. He was absolutely in love. It wasn't the first time Kurt had fallen for someone, but it was the first time it was right.

But he also knew that Blaine had a bad history around love with Sebastian, and he knew there had to be a reason that Blaine hadn't brought it up again since that huge, awful fight that had started it all between them.

And Kurt knew he was always so stupidly quick to fall for boys. It had only been a month. People didn't tell each other they loved them when they'd been together a month, no matter what happened in the movies. This wasn't a movie. This was real life. He had to act like an adult instead of being totally swept away.

So he didn't bare the secrets of his heart; he just acted on them. He clung to Blaine's hands and murmured, "Everything I have with you is perfect, Blaine."

"Kurt," Blaine said with quiet amazement, and Kurt leaned in and met his kiss, because Blaine _was_ special, he was special to Kurt, and he wanted Blaine to _know_ it.

One of Blaine's hands came up to cup Kurt's cheek, and it was cool and trembling a little against his skin, but when they pulled away again Blaine was smiling like he didn't have a care in the world, and Kurt had to smile right back. He couldn't stop himself. Blaine was full of light, and when he showed it he was utterly irresistible.

"Can we go upstairs and see your room now?" Kurt asked. He wasn't sure if it was too fast or not to make the offer, but with the way Blaine's eyes lit up with relief he was assured that it was the right suggestion.

Blaine took his hand and led him through the house and up the stairs, pointing out the various rooms they passed but not stopping until they passed through the door to what clearly was Blaine's bedroom. It was decorated like much of the rest of the house, attractively enough but without much specific personality, but Kurt would have known the sweater thrown over the side chair and the book bag beneath it from an array of thousands.

"So this is it," Blaine said, gesturing around them at the dark walls and bed with its plaid bedspread and slightly disarrayed pillows. "My room."

"I see," Kurt said. He walked slowly through the space, taking in the old prints and the formal Warblers' photograph, the school books on the nightstand, the ratty Tolkien paperbacks and dish of seashells and polished stones on his shelf, and the random pencils and dropped socks on the floor, the odds and ends of a college-age student who hadn't tidied for a guest.

He found, as much as he valued order and neatness, that he loved seeing Blaine's imprint here, the first place in the house that felt lived in. The irony that Blaine didn't actually live here but in New York was not lost on him.

Still, this was _Blaine's_ room, and the mixture of formality and intimate little insights into what he treasured made Kurt feel like he was getting to see right into him, in a way, into the combination of things that made him himself.

It was an honor to be there, to be let in when Blaine used to be so very good at not showing the depths of his heart at all, not even letting on that they were there beneath the polished surface.

"You kissed me in my room," Kurt said, completing his circuit and coming to a halt in front of Blaine, who was showing his apprehension again in the tight set of his shoulders and the watchful sharpness in his eyes. "May I kiss you in yours?"

Blaine let out a hushed laugh and stepped in close, slipping a hand around Kurt's waist. "You never have to ask me that, Kurt."

Kurt shook his head a little and said, "I'm not going to take it for granted," and when Blaine's eyes went warm in response, he leaned in and dipped his mouth to Blaine's.

He wanted it to be a gentle reassurance instead of a heated demand, but even so the kiss went on and on and on, so sweet it made Kurt's chest ache and his eyelids squeeze tightly shut like he could hold back his heart if he just kept them closed. It wasn't that easy, not when he was getting so used to the way Blaine felt in his arms like he belonged there, but when Blaine pulled away to mouth at Kurt's jaw Kurt made himself step backwards. He needed to do this right. He wanted this to be something special, because it could be.

"Sorry, I - " Blaine began, looking confused.

Kurt bent down to unlace his boots and quickly slip them off of his feet. He raised his eyebrows as Blaine stood there and watched him. "I'm not done kissing you, but I'd really like to be doing it on the bed."

"Oh." Blaine rushed to toe his own shoes off. "Oh!"

His fondness escaping in a laugh, Kurt set his shoes aside and touched Blaine's arm before he got on the bed. "Let's get this off, too," Kurt said, gently urging Blaine's sweater over his head and leaving him in the finely woven grey tee he was wearing beneath, all the better for feeling close to him. "Much better."

"This, too," Blaine said. He frowned at the complicated buttons and toggles on the black-and-white color-blocked front of Kurt's sweater, his fingers hovering over them uncertainly, and Kurt took pity on him and unfastened them on his own.

When Kurt had laid his sweater over the chair, Blaine hooked a gentle finger in the placket of Kurt's dress shirt and drew him onto the bed, smiling as he reached for him once more.

Kurt didn't let him take over, though, as much as he could feel his skin humming from the warmth in Blaine's eyes, and he slid on top of Blaine, bracketing his shoulders with his arms and threading his fingers into Blaine's soft, controlled hair. He smiled down into his face, sure in a way that made his heart feel steady even as it pounded in his chest, before kissing him again and again and again, warm and wet and lush.

"Kurt," Blaine gasped out as the minutes drew out, his hands clutching at Kurt's back and his body growing tense with need beneath him.

"I want to keep kissing you right now," Kurt said as he looked down into Blaine's hazy eyes. "Is that all right?"

"Yes," Blaine told him without a second's delay, sliding his foot up Kurt's calf and making Kurt's eyelids droop with the pleasure of it. "But I…"

Kurt pressed his lips softly to the corner of Blaine's mouth. "Let me kiss you," he murmured, hopeful and nervous all at once to make the request. "Please. We have the time. I want to use it."

Looking a little overwhelmed, Blaine seemed to struggle to draw in a breath, but he nodded, and his eyes drifted shut as soon as Kurt's mouth was on his again.

Kurt wasn't sure what he wanted from the kisses, only that he wasn't ready to let them spiral into sex yet. He wanted to show Blaine how important he was, how much he mattered, how much he was in Kurt's heart. He wanted to show him that this was more than just about feeling good but about feeling cared for. He wanted to show him that he may have been surrounded by people for so long who didn't seem to see who he was beneath it all but that now, now, Kurt loved every bit of him.

So he kissed Blaine and kissed him and kissed him until his own heart was pounding and the hair on his arms was standing on end, and finally when Blaine's restless caresses and softly rolling hips were about to make Kurt's gentleness snap into something far more desperate, Blaine let out a low sigh of a moan, his hands in Kurt's hair, and all but melted beneath him, kissing him back eagerly but no longer grasping for more.

Kurt's heart throbbed in his chest with almost painful joy. That was it. That was what he wanted but didn't know to look for. That was exactly it, Blaine focusing on kissing instead of pushing further. He didn't need to push, they'd get there, but he wanted Blaine to feel _this_ , too, all that Kurt was giving him, and not be caught up in what he thought he was supposed to be doing. And he finally was.

It made the languorous movements of their mouths even better when it was only accompanied by their rasping breaths and gently moving fingers in each other's hair. It made Blaine's body beneath his even more of a temptation, not because Kurt wasn't drawn to his usual restless energy and eagerness but because he was also enchanted by these new subtle catches of his breath and the way he tilted his face into the delicate caress of Kurt's thumb. It made every inch of Kurt's own body thrum and tighten with the slide of Blaine's tongue along his, the feather-soft touch of Blaine's fingers in his hair, and the steady, racing heartbeats pounding together through their clothes where their chests touched.

It made everything sharper and clearer, not a tidal wave of arousal to sweep them away, not yet, but a focusing of his attention until there was nothing in his mind, nothing in his heart, other than Blaine right there with him.

He stayed there, kissing as much as he wanted, until slowly, when it felt right, Kurt began to pull at Blaine's clothes, caressing the wonderful abundance of skin that was revealed as he worked.

First to be gone had to be Blaine's shirt, so that Kurt could mouth down past the thudding pulse in Blaine's throat and keep going, down his firm chest, peppering kisses over his heart and along the trembling muscles of his stomach. Next, Kurt carefully unfastened Blaine's watch, rubbing his lips against the delicate skin of his inner wrist and getting a very satisfying gasp from Blaine before setting the accessory aside on the table. Then went Blaine's beautifully tailored slacks and the coordinating argyle socks underneath, which made Kurt smile with an intense burst of affection before he returned to run his hands up Blaine's legs from ankle to thigh, mapping out hair and bone and muscle with his palms.

And then he looked up the length of Blaine's pliant body to meet his dark, almost drunk-looking eyes as he slid off his boxer-briefs as well, leaving him bare and beautiful on the sheets. He was such a dream for Kurt, this gorgeous boy lying there wanting him, letting him touch however he wanted in this quiet room on this big bed with no interruptions, and the way he was _looking_ at Kurt, like he couldn't quite believe what was happening but was entirely agreeable to every bit of it made Kurt feel like he could do no wrong.

Kurt knew he could, of course, but he also knew that if he believed in himself and Blaine wanted him there was no need to let self-doubt enter into his thoughts. He had never gotten anything he wanted by doubting himself.

As soon as he started to crawl up beside him, though, Blaine said, "No," and Kurt froze in a moment of dismay, overwhelmed by it in an instant.

"No," Blaine said again in that enticingly husky tone of voice, pulling at his arm and reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "Your clothes, too." He leaned up on one elbow to get closer. "I want to be able to touch you, Kurt. Please don't make me wait to touch you."

Kurt's breath rushed out of him, and he let out a wavering smile as he nodded. "All right," he said, because he didn't really care as long as they weren't stopping. Not only did he want to be close to Blaine, but he wanted to _give_ this to him, to show him exactly how he felt in a language Blaine might be able to accept.

Together, they stripped off Kurt's clothes, too, although Blaine's fingers were slow and uncoordinated, and they laughed together as he hindered more than he helped. But finally Kurt's shirt was off of his shoulders, his jeans and underwear skimmed down his legs and kicked onto the floor with the comforter, and their bared bodies tucked against each other once more.

They kissed for a while - long, sumptuous kisses getting ever more deep and fervent until Blaine's breath was coming in gasps and Kurt's body felt like it was charged with electricity from the slide of skin against skin - and when he couldn't stand it anymore he moved away from Blaine's mouth and started working his way downwards, kissing the hollow between his collar bones, pressing his mouth over Blaine's thundering heart, curving his hands over Blaine's shoulders and arms, tracing the dip of Blaine's navel with the tip of his tongue, and smiling, smiling as Blaine kept murmuring his name in wonder and touching him wherever he could.

He kissed along the delicious line of muscle above Blaine's hip, smoothed his palm down Blaine's strong thigh, and then watched Blaine's eyes as he wrapped his fingers around the base of Blaine's straining erection and licked up it before taking it into his mouth.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, like he was surprised.

Kurt mmmed around him, felt Blaine's body tense at the vibration, and gave himself a moment to savor it all - the connection, the bone-deep desire for it for them both, the stretch of his lips and the rasp of his breath through his nose - before he went to work.

He started slowly, kissing, licking, and sucking along his length before taking him deeper, relishing this still new intimacy of Blaine's skin instead of latex against his lips and tongue. Blaine felt so alive, throbbing and hot and real, _there_ , not distant, not separated from him at all, and the salt-bitter _taste_ of him flooded Kurt with a dark wave of arousal, because he was getting to know it. It meant something. It meant Blaine, this person he cared so much about, this person he wanted so badly to make happy, this person who made him feel so good, this person he just wanted to love. He'd never had that kind of knowledge about another person, not to where just the smell of his neck or the taste of his skin could make the hair on his body rise on end.

"Kurt," Blaine moaned again, one hand in the sheets and the other resting on the back of Kurt's head and drifting through his hair.

Working him with his lips and the flat of his tongue the way he was learning Blaine liked, Kurt concentrated on making Blaine tremble and gasp, but the way the thick length of him felt filling his mouth set off sparks behind his eyes, because this wasn't just any boy he was getting to touch, it wasn't just any blow job, it was Blaine, and he couldn't separate what he was doing from what he was feeling.

He felt so _much_ that it was hard to keep it all inside.

He fought to focus on what was happening instead of what was in his heart, and Blaine's reactions certainly helped with that, because it was hard for Kurt to keep thinking about anything but _yes_ when Blaine was moaning his name louder and louder as his hips twitched and his fingers clutched at the sheets. Kurt pulled back to suck around the head, stroked him in short jerks, felt his head spin and his mouth water as Blaine struggled to keep himself still, and thought _yes yes yes_.

"Kurt. _Kurt_. Oh, god, Kurt, that's so good. That feels so _good_. Fuck, _Kurt_." Blaine seemed to remember that there was no one to hear them, for once, and no need to be quiet, and Kurt wished he could soundproof his room in college so that could have this kind of response all of the time. There was no room for any doubt that Blaine was enjoying himself.

Every breath out was a gasp, a groan, Kurt's name sharp and low when Kurt added an extra swirl of his tongue and sank down further around him. Blaine's back twisted against the mattress, and his guiding fingers on the back of Kurt's head curled into his hair on each down stroke. It didn't feel like pressure or a demand; it felt like appreciation. It felt like Blaine was so happy it was _him_ driving him absolutely crazy.

It was just what Kurt wanted sex to be: hot, real, and full of meaning

"Kurt - Kurt - " The muscles of Blaine's stomach were trembling beneath Kurt's hand, and Kurt ignored the ache in his jaw and the throb of his own erection and worked him harder, faster, wanting more of everything Blaine was giving him, wanting to give _Blaine_ everything he possibly could. "No, Kurt, you need to stop, I'm going to - "

Panting for breath, Kurt pulled off and looked up his gorgeous body at him, watching Blaine's chest heave and his sex-dark eyes pleading for something quite different from his words. He pressed two, three kisses to Blaine's hip as Blaine's hand curled around his cheek.

"Can you - " Blaine swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "I want you to fuck me. Please, Kurt, I want to feel you in me."

Kurt took Blaine's hand in his own and pressed a hard kiss into his palm and another against the heel of his hand. "I want that, too," he promised, feeling the pull inside of him as sure and hard to stop as a magnet. He wanted that closeness. He wanted that pleasure. But he wanted something else, as well. "But we have all night. Can't we start with this? I want to do this for you. I want to give this to you."

"I don't need - " Blaine started, his eyes fluttering shut as Kurt kissed his stomach, soft and closed-mouthed, simply unable to stop touching him.

"We have all night," Kurt said again. He knew he could make Blaine agree by coaxing him with his mouth and fingers, but that wasn't fair. He had to let Blaine choose. "Please? Let me? If you'd like it."

Blaine opened his eyes again, searched Kurt's face, and finally laughed a little, desperate and self-conscious. "God, Kurt, I want it so much. You have no idea. It feels incredible."

Kurt smiled up at him, relieved and honestly quite delighted by the praise, and replied, "Thank you."

And then he dipped his head and went back to work, no longer teasing at all, just giving Blaine what he wanted with every flex of his tongue against his erection, every bob of his head, every twist of his fingers, every suck and swallow, every extra bit deeper he tried to take him, letting Blaine's body and voice urge him on until Blaine was pushing up into his mouth in subtle rocking movements and his voice was so rough he hardly sounded like himself. Kurt chased every reaction, each twitch and moan, drowning in them, drawing them out, half-lost in his taste and feel, even more lost in the quest to give Blaine everything he possibly could.

"I can't - I can't - Kurt, please, I can't - "

Kurt tightened his hand on Blaine's hip, took him deep enough his eyes threatened to water, and silently assured him he _could_.

"God, _Kurt_ ," Blaine gasped out, in warning or in gratitude, and he came in thick pulses on Kurt's tongue.

Breathing through his nose, Kurt swallowed around him, stroked him and soothed him through his orgasm as he best he could, and finally pulled off and wiped his wet mouth on his wrist.

He was so turned on, so hard he was trembling, but he could only smile with satisfaction at the sprawl of his boyfriend on his rumpled sheets, Blaine's breathing still coming fast but his limbs limp with release. Blaine was flushed, sweaty, and sated, just what Kurt wanted to see, wanted to have given him.

Angling his hips away so he wasn't tempted or frustrated by rubbing against him, Kurt crawled back up the bed and slipped into the space left empty by Blaine's flung-out arms. It wouldn't take much to follow him into his orgasm, but that wasn't what he needed most. He just needed to be close to him. He could take care of the needs of his body after the needs of his heart.

Blaine turned on his side and curled around him as soon as he was near, tipping his face up for a series of lingering kisses, and Kurt stroked Blaine's chest, stomach, and side, as a comfort, as a connection, and maybe a little bit of a tease to himself, because Blaine was so exceptionally appealing that it seemed a shame not to enjoy him even if Kurt needed to cool off, too.

"That was amazing," Blaine said after a while, smiling at him with a bright, almost innocent light in his eyes.

"It was my pleasure," Kurt replied, skimming his fingers up Blaine's arm. Even now that he had the fires of his arousal banked, he couldn't seem to stop touching him. Kurt _loved_ him, and Blaine in his own way was letting him.

"I'm pretty sure that's my line," Blaine said with a knowing laugh.

Smiling, Kurt leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before dropping his head back to the pillow. "I'm pretty sure it isn't, Blaine."

His expression going cloudy in a way Kurt didn't expect, Blaine cupped his face and kissed him harder, an intense, happy series of kisses that made Kurt's heart tighten, crack from need, and lift even higher.

They wrapped themselves in each other, the kisses and touches going on and on and on, Blaine slowly making them deeper, stronger, until he pushed Kurt onto his back - Kurt automatically flinging out a hand to keep from falling off of the mattress, only it wasn't a dorm-sized twin but a proper bed with plenty of room for them to move - straddled him, and just kept kissing him until Kurt was caught in a daze of desire and joy at how much of Blaine he could touch in that position. He could skim his hands over Blaine's back, his arms, his face, and lower, over his hips and ass, along his strong, hair-dusted thighs, so much of him. It was all there for him.

Always one to believe in taking advantage of opportunities when they were presented to him, Kurt very happily drove himself crazy by touching every wonderful inch of Blaine he could, caressing, clutching, and admiring, while Blaine kept him close and kissed him absolutely breathless.

"I believe," Blaine finally said, huskily, looking down at him with a determined but achingly fond light in his eyes, "that I asked you to fuck me. And you agreed."

His voice trapped in his throat for a second, Kurt nodded. "Of course I did."

"There's no of course about it," Blaine said, dropping a peck of a kiss on his lips. "You are a man of very strong opinions, Kurt Hummel. You could want something else." He grinned and slid his body knowingly along his, their erections brushing against each other. "Or maybe nothing at all."

Kurt slipped his hands up Blaine's back and felt his whole body throb with wanting him. "I just want you, Blaine," Kurt replied, a little hazy. "If I have a limit on that, I haven't gotten anywhere close to it."

Blaine's smile turned a hundred times brighter in a way that made Kurt's heart flip in his chest, and then he leaned away, grabbing something from his bedside table drawer. Kurt stroked his side, but when he started to turn with him, Blaine just dropped a bottle of lubricant, a little hand towel, and a condom beside his shoulder and straddled him again.

"I love being with you like this," Blaine said, nuzzling at Kurt's throat and sucking a few hot kisses there. "Thank you."

"I'm not really sure why you're thanking me," Kurt said as he clutched helplessly at Blaine's shoulders. He breathed in and out as slowly as he could, trying not to give into the jittering desire that wanted so badly to take over.

Blaine raised his head and looked into his eyes. "Because I want to. Because you're incredible. Because you're here."

"Then I should be thanking you, too," Kurt told him quite honestly, but Blaine just shook his head and handed him the lube.

"Get me ready?" Blaine asked.

Kurt's hands were shaking, but somehow he managed to get the cap open and enough of the lube on his fingers that he could start working it gently into Blaine. He usually loved watching as he got Blaine ready for him, because he could see Blaine melt and get worked up at the same time through the process. Like he had the first time they'd had sex, Blaine loved the feeling of fingers inside of him, and he didn't hold back about it.

This position was good, too, though, because with Blaine over him Kurt could hear Blaine's breath hitch against his neck when he circled and slid his fingers in in just the right way, feel Blaine's hair growing damp again against his face, and feel the tension flowing through Blaine's body as he held himself up on his elbows, mouthed at Kurt's throat, and rocked with Kurt's careful movements.

"God, Kurt," Blaine murmured roughly, pushing himself down onto Kurt's fingers. "Yeah, you were right, it was so good I came before, because I swear, I could come from this right now. I _love_ this." He rocked back on his knees, taking more of Kurt inside of him and gasping against Kurt's throat.

"I know the feeling." Kurt could barely breathe from the intensity of his reactions to Blaine's eager responses and the feel of the clenching heat of his body tight around his fingers, and he focused on his task with an iron will, because if he didn't he wasn't going to make it to _be_ inside of Blaine.

"No, no, no coming now, I want you in me," Blaine told him with a low groan that made Kurt's erection throb.

"Okay, noises like that are _not_ helping," Kurt said, and much to his surprise he started to laugh at how ridiculous it felt to be so stupidly desperate. Blaine tightened around his fingers in the most delicious way as he laughed, too, and Kurt turned his face toward his and gave him a grinning kiss before reaching for some more lubricant.

Finally Blaine grabbed the condom wrapper and sat back on Kurt's legs. "I'm ready," he said, ripping open the packet and rolling it onto Kurt's cock with his clever hands. His skin was flushed and damp with sweat, and his eyes were dark and happy.

Kurt slicked himself up with the lube left on his hand and tried to think of anything else but how good it felt, but he shouldn't have worried about being too turned on, because by the time he was reaching for the towel to clean off his fingers Blaine was rolling off of him entirely.

Kurt's stomach dropped, and he made a little sound of distress before he could stop himself. He didn't want Blaine to go _away_.

"Like this?" Blaine asked over his shoulder, apparently entirely unconcerned, and he walked on his knees toward the headboard, bracing his palms on the fabric there. "Is that okay? I really want to feel you."

Turning onto his knees to follow, Kurt slid his palms up Blaine's sticky back. "Anything you want," he promised. It was more natural for Kurt for sex to flow more out of expressing their feelings than from exploring exactly what bodies could do, but Blaine had never asked him for anything in bed Kurt hadn't loved, so he ignored the flutter of performance anxiety in his stomach and turned it into anticipation for getting to have him at all.

"Like this," Blaine said with a smile and shuffled his knees a little wider.

"Okay," Kurt said in a very small voice, his throat dry, because Blaine was a beautiful dream stretched out in front of him like that - his back a gorgeous, golden line of muscle, his ass toned perfection, and his arms flexed and strong holding him up, all of him so easy about being ready and willing and wanting - but then he was always a dream, and Kurt should really be used to it. He shouldn't be so overwhelmed by everything Blaine wanted to do with him, with Blaine being so available to him. He should just be enjoying it.

Biting his lip, Kurt moved in close between Blaine's legs, kissed the back of his neck, and got himself positioned, rubbing the tip of his erection over Blaine's slick entrance in a horrible, wonderful tease. "Okay?" he asked, and he waited for Blaine's nod before he started to push inside.

There was something impossible for him to capture in his memory when his body was entirely his own about how Blaine's body opened for him, that tightness holding for an endless second before easing and Blaine just letting him press in. Wanting him, accepting him, _letting_ him. It made Kurt's breath catch in his throat, his muscles lock, and his stomach twist with need, and then he stopped being able to think at all. It was a shock and a gift, an intense, awe-inspiring gift, every time.

"Yeah," Blaine moaned in approval, tilting his hips and letting him in even deeper.

Sweat springing up on the back of his neck, Kurt pushed in a few inches, then out again, repeating the motion as Blaine's body tensed and relaxed around him. Finally sinking in all of the way in a silky glide, he kept one hand on Blaine's hip and wrapped the other around Blaine, gripping him across his chest and holding onto his opposite shoulder. He was pressed against him from chin to knee, his chest against Blaine's back, breathing in the same ragged rhythm. They were so close, Blaine holding him up so that all Kurt had to do was enjoy him.

He had to move. He had to. His whole body was poised and ready to move, his toes digging into the mattress for purchase and his hips straining as he held them still. But he couldn't, not until Blaine was ready. His body shook with holding back when all he wanted to do was keep moving and moving until they were both lost in it, because Blaine felt so _good_ around him, in his arms, everywhere, everywhere, and when Blaine finally pushed his hips back against him, Kurt couldn't stop himself from giving a few deep, smooth thrusts just the way he needed to.

"Oh," Blaine said with a gasp of a laugh. "Oh, yeah." He dropped his head forward between his braced arms and raised himself a little higher on his knees.

Kurt leaned over him, pulling him in with the hand on his hip with his next thrust, and it felt so good he had to close his eyes and do it again, and again, and again, each slide into Blaine easier and better and more necessary. He mouthed at Blaine's shoulder and kept moving, because Blaine was starting to moan, low and deep, and that meant he was doing something very right, not just for himself.

And it was _so_ right for himself, pushing into Blaine's body, having him, being wanted there, rocking in just the perfect rhythm that made his skin spark with sweat and arousal. He wanted this so much. He wanted Blaine so much, not just a body but _this_ body wanting him right back.

Sex wasn't elegant, not in the sweet way he might have imagined love was when he was younger - it was sweaty and sticky, with sounds both arousing and strange, and it took over his body in ways Kurt still couldn't quite understand when he wasn't in the throes of it - but this desperate, straining closeness, this all-consuming need thrumming through them both was still something from his heart when he was doing it right, and this was so, so right.

"Blaine," he said in a broken whisper, pressing an open-mouthed kiss at the top of his spine, closing his eyes, and thrusting into him again and again, trying to get as close as possible.

"God. I never thought," Blaine panted out, pushing back with him, the muscles in his arms and legs flexing with the motion. "that I'd be grateful for the other guys you've slept with. But I really, really am, because _god_ , Kurt, you are so _good_ at this."

And just like that the wonderful spell of pleasure that was starting to take over Kurt began to shatter. His hips slowed but didn't still, and he pressed his face against Blaine's shoulder, glad for once to be able to hide a little.

He licked his lip, kissed Blaine's shoulder, and knew this was the moment. He could either keep going, protect himself, and never say a word, or he could give Blaine the knowledge he deserved, the information that would make him see just how different he was than everyone else Kurt had ever known.

When he thought about it like that, he couldn't see how that was a choice at all.

"There's only been you, Blaine," Kurt admitted to his shoulder blades, holding him close with his arm across Blaine's chest.

"What?" Blaine twisted so that he could look over his shoulder at Kurt, and the shift of position made them both groan as Kurt's cock was pushed in that much deeper.

Kurt had to stop moving, because he just couldn't do it all at once. He met Blaine's eyes, found his voice, and said, "There's only been you like this." _In for a penny_ , he told himself with firm determination. "Either way. I haven't done this with anyone else."

Blaine stared at him for a moment as though he just couldn't understand Kurt's words, then his breath gusted out of him. He pushed himself back off of the headboard without warning, like he trusted Kurt would catch him, holding onto Kurt's arm as Kurt sank back onto his heels with Blaine on top of him, and used his free hand to pull Kurt's head toward him in an awkward but heated kiss.

"I need you to - You have to - " Blaine said, wrenching his head away and dropping it back against Kurt's shoulder.

"What?" Kurt said, afraid to move and absolutely _desperate_ to move with the way he was buried so deeply in Blaine's body. He could barely breathe it felt so good.

Blaine raised himself up an inch or two and sank back onto Kurt, both of them shuddering at the motion. "Touch me. Please, touch me. Kurt, please. Tell me you want to." He scrabbled at Kurt's hand on his hip.

Kurt turned his face against Blaine's throat, let go of the death grip he had on Blaine's hip now that it was clear he wasn't going anywhere, and let Blaine guide his hand down to his hard, slick erection. "I always want to touch you," he promised as they wrapped their fingers around it together. The feel of Blaine's heat and thickness against his palm went straight up Kurt's spine, the simple, aroused maleness of him so hot it made Kurt's vision white out for a moment with how much he liked it.

"Yeah," Blaine said hoarsely, and together they began to move, bodies straining as Blaine raised and lowered himself in time with their hands on him. He flung his free hand back to curl around the back of Kurt's head, keeping him close, and just gave himself up to him, spread out over his lap, his body draped against Kurt's like a very eager offering, his to touch, his to take.

There was an urgency to Blaine's movements that was impossible for Kurt not to catch as well, and as Blaine worked himself on Kurt's cock, groaning and panting as he sank as deep as he could and then pushed down harder like he was trying for even more, Kurt's thighs trembled to keep them balanced as his own hips snapped up faster, harder to meet him.

"Like that, like that," Blaine pleaded, loud in the room. "Kurt, like that." He rocked down against him, urging Kurt's hand to stroke his cock more roughly.

Kurt could barely keep up. He could barely function at all. He couldn't think or plan or try to show all of the tenderness in his heart. All he could do was suck hot kisses on Blaine's throat and keep moving, needing to be there, close, deep, his fingers digging into Blaine's shoulder to hold him against his chest. All he could do was let his body do what it needed to do, the insistent push of his erection into Blaine like the beat of music driving him towards his climax.

"Like that. Don't stop, don't stop," Blaine said, fucking down onto him as the bed creaked and Kurt's breath burst out in gasps as he held on and tried to give him everything he wanted.

"I'm not," he said, the words barely intelligible in his own ears. "I won't. Blaine, I won't, I can't, I - "

Blaine moaned, pushed back against him in a needy, helpless spasm. Then his hips jerked, his whole body did, and he tightened his grip on Kurt's hand and stroked himself fast as his cock throbbed and his body clenched down _hard_. He let out a sharp, choked sound and sank down one last time onto Kurt's lap as he started to spill out his orgasm over their fingers.

"Kurt, Kurt, god, yes, Kurt - "

Kurt couldn't focus on drawing out the rest of Blaine's pleasure the way he should before taking his own. He was too close. It was too much. Instead he had to thrust up into him, hard, fast, just a few more desperate times as Blaine shuddered around him. And then he was coming, too, so fiercely that he couldn't tell which way was up, and the only thing grounding him was Blaine's body he was holding so tightly in his arms.

He just held onto Blaine and let himself go.

Finally, finally, when their breathing had returned to something like normal, the condom was gone, the worst of the mess was wiped away, and they were curled safely out of the wet spot facing each other, Kurt managed to pull himself together enough to smile over at Blaine on the other side of the pillow and close his eyes with pleasure as Blaine stroked Kurt's sweaty hair up and off of his forehead. "Mmm, thank you," he said, feeling warm and sleepy, extremely satisfied, pleasantly sore, and surprisingly content despite the intensity of the emotions they'd both expressed with their bodies. Maybe it was because of them.

"Thank _you_ ," Blaine said softly. "But Kurt?"

Kurt opened his eyes again and saw nothing but affection in Blaine's face. He couldn't find it in himself to be too concerned, even though he knew what was coming. He knew Blaine felt for him deeply, no matter how he defined it. He knew Blaine cared, and not just a little bit. This was a boy who liked him, who stood up for him, who learned music for him, and who gave himself over to him so completely. It was hard to be afraid in the face of that kind of emotion.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Blaine asked him.

Drawing in a short breath and settling his hand on Blaine's chest, Kurt admitted, "I was embarrassed."

Blaine frowned a little, still gently stroking his hair in a comforting glide of his fingers. "Why?"

"You have all of this history, and I don't. Not like that." Kurt could see that didn't make any sense to Blaine, and he licked his lip and tried to explain. "I'm used to faking it until I make it."

"I don't want you faking anything," Blaine told him.

Kurt brushed his hand along Blaine's cheek, his heart fluttering at being allowed the caress. "I'm not. Not with you. I promise. But I didn't want you think less of me."

"I never would," Blaine said with a passionate promise in his eyes that took Kurt's breath away.

Just barely smiling, Kurt said, "So now you know. I've never had sex - intercourse - with anyone but you. You're my first, my only." He wanted it to be clear, not something let out in a moment of heated action but a secret shared.

"I'm sorry your first time was so…" Sounding melancholy, Blaine trailed off, apparently searching for the right word.

"I'm not sorry," Kurt insisted. He couldn't be. As much as it had hurt when Blaine had left the morning afterwards, that night had been incredible. "I'd said no before - not to topping, no one had asked me, but - I'd said no. I could have said no to you, too. You know me well enough to know that."

"Why didn't you?" Blaine asked so very quietly, watching his eyes.

There were a lot of answers he could give, but Kurt settled on the simplest, on the truest, even though what it meant had changed over time. "Because it was you, Blaine."

Blaine's mouth twisted with emotion, and he leaned in to kiss Kurt once, twice, with a fervor Kurt didn't quite understand but felt warmed by, anyway. He stroked Blaine's hair and face and kissed him back with every wonderful, welcomed, wanted thing he felt.

"And as for the other way," Kurt said slowly when Blaine pulled back and was settled on the pillow once more, "it's a big thing for me, to let someone in, in any sense. I couldn't just _do_ it, bottom, with anyone. I didn't have any desire to."

Nodding, Blaine said without a drop of judgment, "Not everyone does, Kurt. You don't have to."

Kurt drew his fingertips along Blaine's shoulder and took a breath to steel his nerves before he looked back into Blaine's eyes. With the truth out in the open, it was a lot easier to speak than he thought it would be. "I know, but I… with you, I would."

Blaine's mouth dropped open in surprise. "You would?"

"If you wanted to," Kurt said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug he hoped looked more confident than it felt. "I trust you."

"I want to," Blaine said so quickly that Kurt had to laugh. After a moment, Blaine laughed, too, ducking his head a bit but not looking away. "I mean, if you want to."

A happy flare of nerves went through Kurt. It was still a big step for him, something he couldn't undertake lightly, but he knew it was the right decision. Blaine was the right person. Blaine would absolutely take care of him, and he would make sure it was good. He'd make sure it was _wonderful_ , actually, for his body and his heart. "At some point," he said and stretched out his legs, pointing and flexing his toes. He ran his hand down Blaine's cooling back. "But right now we should get you cleaned up more properly."

"In a minute," Blaine said, slipping his arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him up against him. "I have something more important to do first."

"What's that?" Kurt met his eyes and found himself lost in their depths, and for a heart-fluttering second he didn't know what to expect, whether Blaine was going to say something else, something _more_. But then Blaine just smiled, that simple, contented smile that lodged right under Kurt's ribs and made it hard to breathe, and gave him the sweetest, most tender kiss Kurt could have imagined.

Kurt found that Blaine was right; despite them both being sticky and sweaty, happily achy and tired, he couldn't think of anything more important in the world than kissing him back.

17\. Return to New York

Kurt tipped his head against the cool window of the airport shuttle, careful not to disturb his perfectly perched cap, and watched as the New York skyline grew larger and larger as they approached it. His heart leapt at the sight of _his_ city, even as he felt that same pull he always did when he came back, that stretching of the bonds of love between himself and his family and the re-settling of the responsibilities of his life back on his shoulders.

There was so much to do: the play, the Review, all of his endless schoolwork. He'd been giving Blaine a lot of his time, which he couldn't regret for a moment, but as he thought of the work of the weeks ahead he couldn't help but feel a sense of looming dread. There was so very much to _do_.

Still, for the first time since he'd moved to New York, he actually didn't feel quite so much like he was giving up something to be there doing it. His dad and Carole were still on the other end of the phone, after all, and the distance didn't change their love. He wasn't without them, just a little further away. He wasn't choosing. He didn't need to. He really didn't. He could have people who cared about him and New York, too.

It wasn't one or the other, not anymore. He could have them both in both places, sometimes all at once. This trip had proven that.

This trip had proven a lot of things about his heart, really, to himself and he hoped maybe to Blaine, too.

"The traffic's good today. We're almost home," Blaine said, looking out of the window beside Kurt.

"Mmm." Rubbing his thumb over Blaine's gloved hand where it was clasped in his own, Kurt smiled to himself, leaned against his boyfriend's shoulder, and watched his city flow past him. "Almost."

He didn't have everything he wanted yet, but he felt like he was a little closer to having it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: I am spoiler-free! Please be kind and help me stay that way!


	5. Chapter 5

18\. ~~Alliance Dance~~ Peter

A few weeks after Spring Break, Kurt paid his entry fee, got the impossible-to-remove underage stamp pressed onto the back of his hand, and walked through the door to the LGBT Alliance dance with his head held determinedly high. The room was going to be full of Blaine's friends - although those he'd met had been pleasant enough, if rather boisterous, like a big pack of friendly, foul-mouthed, potentially pre-alcoholic puppy dogs who wanted to drag Blaine off to party with them - he had a not altogether positive history with these events, and he absolutely refused to let any of his feelings about it show. Blaine cared about the organization, he had helped set up the dance, and Kurt wasn't going to do anything to ruin the night for him.

Besides, a part of him was really looking forward to dancing with Blaine again, even if he didn't need to do it with the gossiping eyes of the group on him. It didn't matter. The bitter truth was that like New Directions they were going to gossip, anyway; he might as well get some dancing out of it.

It was early enough that the room wasn't crowded yet, but even if it had been, even if Kurt hadn't known him, Kurt's eyes would have caught on Blaine where he was standing by the bar. Not only was he dressed well for the crowd - still casually, but his maroon striped henley and dark jeans actually fit him - but he had this energy about him that was impossible to ignore. He was vibrant, animated, and full of life. He was something special among the mundane. Kurt smiled to himself as he walked toward his boyfriend, feeling his step fall into the rhythm of the same music that was making Blaine bounce where he stood.

Blaine was talking to a tall, blond student; his face was familiar from Blaine's Facebook pictures, though in person it rang even more of a bell in Kurt's memory for some reason. Kurt knew who he was; he was Peter, whom he hadn't met yet.

Kurt hadn't been _avoiding_ Peter, precisely, since he knew that would have put him into bad boyfriend territory, but since he was the friend Kurt was the most uneasy about seeing he hadn't exactly pushed for the meeting. Peter's history with Blaine was more complicated than Blaine's with Julie and Meg, after all, and they were enough for Kurt to have to incorporate into his life. He didn't need more friends, especially those not of his own choosing. He was busy enough with the ones he liked. He wasn't in any hurry to add more.

Especially not when Blaine had actively courted this one and sung his praises to Kurt for agonizing days. No, Kurt didn't need a new friend in Peter, at whom he would probably never be able to look without remembering everything Blaine must still see in him.

But he also wasn't going to turn tail and run because Blaine's heart had been and maybe still was pulled toward other people, so he kept walking.

Blaine glanced out over the room as he spoke to Peter, and the second he saw Kurt his eyes sparked like fireworks, his mouth turning up into a smile. "Kurt!" he said, bounding over to him and taking his hand. "Hi! You look amazing!"

"Thank you," Kurt replied with a smile of his own as Blaine led him toward the bar. He'd put extra care into his outfit, picking a vest that skimmed his ribs and made his shoulders look broad, jeans that were tight but had enough give to them to dance in, and boots that were both comfortable and shined to perfection.

"Do you want a drink?" Blaine asked, and - ah - that explained some of his excitement. There was an empty beer bottle on the bar next to where he'd been standing, with another one halfway drained beside it.

"Rum and diet, please," Kurt replied. One drink wasn't going to make him lose his head, but it might let him ignore everyone else a little more easily. There was no point to the night if he couldn't have fun with Blaine.

"I'm Peter," the other boy said, holding out his hand to shake as Blaine talked to the bartender.

As Kurt met it, he looked Peter over from head to toe. He definitely looked familiar, like he might have met him before, but more than that he looked… sloppy. His hair was too long, his sweater was too baggy and misshapen, his jeans had a hole in the knee, and his sneakers were just boring.

Rocking back on his heels, Kurt realized with a shock that he should have insisted on meeting Peter weeks ago.

Kurt was sure Peter had many redeeming qualities if Blaine had at least part-way fallen for him, but one thing Kurt knew with sudden certainty was that he absolutely wasn't competition. Kurt knew Blaine. He knew Blaine cared first and foremost about a good heart, but he was also a boy who used to subscribe to _Vogue_ and who could speak with some credibility about different ways to tie a cravat and the appropriate uses of silk charmeuse, at least when he wasn't being distracted by rolling around on the floor with Swatch at Mood.

Blaine might have tried to blend in with the frat boy style and mentality, but it wasn't what drove him. It wasn't who he really was.

Blaine was never going to end up with someone whose outlook was so incompatible, not now that he'd found someone who was on the same page with his inner heart.

"Kurt," he replied, amused that he could ever have been the least bit concerned about Blaine's affections drifting back in Peter's direction. It was ridiculous.

"It's great to see you," Peter said, and the spark in his eye made Kurt _sure_ they must have met before. Maybe Peter had tried to hit on him the year before; Kurt certainly hadn't slept with him, he knew that much. He couldn't imagine even having talked to him. "Blaine talks about you all of the time. You should come to the Alliance meetings, hang out with us." He looked actively interested in Kurt - curious, possibly even a little confused about why Blaine was so taken with him, but friendly nonetheless.

Kurt made a noncommittal sound. "That's more Blaine's thing than mine. I might take him up on singing at the center at some point."

"Great," Peter said with a smile. "Better you than me. Blaine says your voice is really exceptional."

"He _has_ been talking about me," Kurt said with some delight, squeezing Blaine's hand. He couldn't help but be thrilled to hear that Blaine was talking about his specific talents to his friends, like maybe he was bragging a little or showing him off. He hadn't expected that, but he certainly liked it.

"They don't have rum yet," Blaine told him as he turned back toward him. "Dave's running late with half the drinks. Do you want something else? Or do you want to dance first?"

Kurt took in Blaine's cheerful face and the way he was swinging their linked hands in time with the music, and he found it impossible not to smile at him. "I'm ready to dance."

He didn't need a drink, and he didn't feel any need to look back as he led Blaine onto the floor. Blaine was happy, and no one else mattered. There was nothing to worry about.

19\. Alliance Dance 

Blaine wondered if the Union had gotten new lights in the room, because they seemed extra swirly and sparkly as they flashed and twisted all around them on the dance floor. Maybe they were new. Or maybe it was the beer. It could have been the beer. Beer always made the world seem swirly; that was part of why he liked it.

Or maybe, he thought, it was Kurt.

Blaine tipped his head against Kurt's, his body held securely in Kurt's arms as Kurt led him through the slow song, and smiled to himself. It was probably Kurt. Kurt, who had been dancing with him all night. Kurt, who had been sparkling and gorgeous and hot and sweet and subtly flirty and not at all remote. Kurt, who hadn't looked away or over his head even once but who had been focused on _him_.

Kurt, who was going to go home with him at the end of the night and take him into his bed and do wonderful things with him, not because he'd gotten his fill of chasing others but because he never seemed to get his fill of being with Blaine.

Kurt, who, no matter how busy he was becoming, also kept getting better and better the more Blaine knew of him.

Blaine looked up at him again, at the clear affection in Kurt's eyes, at the sureness of his smile.

Yes, Blaine thought happily as Kurt spun him in a slow circle, it wasn't the lights that were making everything shine like magic. It was Kurt.

"We should do this every night," he murmured against Kurt's ear. It didn't matter that Kurt wasn't going to kiss him here in the middle of this wonderful moment. "I want to do this every night."

Kurt let out a soft laugh, his breath ruffling Blaine's hair and his hand flexing on Blaine's back, and spun him deeper into the dance.

20\. Fight

At Kurt's familiar rap on his dorm room door only six minutes later than he'd said he would arrive, Blaine shoved the rest of his socks into his drawer, unmatched, and hurried to let Kurt in, a smile automatically rising onto his face. They'd had to skip their almost weekly Sunday morning brunch because Kurt had had an extra Brigadoon dance rehearsal, and they both had to spend the afternoon studying, but at least they could be together for the rest of the day. In Blaine's room. With a door that shut. While Rob was out until at least eight that night.

So maybe Blaine was hoping that they would get to do a _little_ more than studying, because their time was limited and precious right now, but mostly he was just happy that they would get to spend the time together somewhere more comfortable than a coffee shop or the library.

"Hi," Kurt said, bustling inside as soon as Blaine had the door open. He leaned in and brushed a short kiss against the edge of Blaine's mouth before heading for his bed and setting down his two bulging bags and pulling off his long scarf. "I am _very_ glad to be here."

"I'm glad you're here, too," Blaine said, holding out his hand to take Kurt's coat.

"I think that was the longest rehearsal of my life," Kurt said with a harried air. He gave his coat to Blaine with a smile and set his scarf on top of it. "The steps are just not that complicated, and yet Ian can _not_ get them to save his life. I can't believe how much time we had to waste on it."

Blaine hung Kurt's coat on one of the hooks in his closet, carefully smoothing the sleeves so that they wouldn't wrinkle. "I'm sorry."

Kurt shook his head. "I wouldn't care that much - I mean, I danced with Finn for years - but I have to write up this précis for my seminar for tomorrow, and I haven't even had time to finish reading the article, nevertheless start writing about it, and with Amanda having mono now I just don't have _any_ time to waste on - "

"Wait, Amanda has mono?" Blaine interrupted.

"Haven't you checked your e-mail? She sent something an hour ago. I got it on my way over."

Blaine shook his head and picked up his phone; he'd been busy cleaning since he got back from brunch, putting away his clean laundry from last night's two am load, recycling Rob's tower of cans that always made Kurt worry there were bugs in the room, and putting new sheets on the bed in case he could get Kurt to take advantage of Rob's absence, although with the way Kurt was pulling books, papers, and his laptop out of his bag and spreading them across the tidy comforter the possibility of anything of the sort was looking a lot less likely than Blaine had hoped.

"What are we going to do?" Blaine asked, scanning the brief e-mail Amanda had sent apologizing that she had to pull out of the Review. She was a featured singer in two parts of the show, plus backing in others. It was no small loss, no small problem.

"I don't know," Kurt said, putting his dance bag on the floor and sitting down in the spot it had taken on the edge of the bed. He leaned back over his books. "I can't worry about it right now. Well, I can and am, obviously, but Tina is out of contact today at that anthro thing, and I should probably come up with a good bribe before I beg her to take the part, since she has the best chance of stepping into both the role and the dress I made for the first act closing solo."

Blaine stepped forward toward him, wishing Kurt would slow down from whatever he was doing enough to look at him more than with glances through the conversation. This was a big problem, and they should have been working on it together instead of Kurt's mind spinning away on its own as it so often did. "But she doesn't want to perform."

Kurt shot him yet another unsatisfyingly short look. "Hence the bribe." He pulled his laptop onto his lap and opened it.

"Maybe we should come up with other options," Blaine said. "You've had some reservations about that number since we - "

"I can't ask anyone to prepare something new on top of what we're already doing. We're two weeks out; there isn't time. It's nearing finals. Everybody is swamped." Kurt typed a few things and nodded to himself. "And I was right; there's absolutely no budget here for a new wardrobe or set, not with the extra materials Ang just had to buy for that drop that was damaged. It will be hard enough rearranging some of the songs without Amanda's voice, and there just isn't time for something new. Tina has enough experience putting together routines at the last minute from New Directions, and she doesn't already have a rehearsal schedule to work around, so I think she's our best option."

_We both have show choir experience, too,_ Blaine thought to himself, but he knew better than to try to get Kurt to stop and listen when he was in that sort of mood. Kurt wasn't ready to think about it; he just wanted to solve it and move on. Once he wasn't feeling so overloaded and had finished some of the projects he had with looming deadlines, he would be more willing to look at other options.

Then again, given how adamant he had been about not singing with Blaine in the Review, maybe he wouldn't be.

Blaine pushed aside the twinge of bitterness about that, reminded himself that he completely understood Kurt's reasons for not wanting to display their relationship to others that way, even now that they were settling into it a little, and asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Something diet with as much caffeine as possible would be wonderful," Kurt said with a smile, and he moved his things around on Blaine's bed so that he could prop himself up across it with his back against the wall.

Blaine fetched a can of diet soda from the mini-fridge and handed it to Kurt, who took a long drink before setting it on the edge of Blaine's desk. "Thank you. Maybe now I can keep my eyes open through the rest of this article," Kurt said, stretching his long arms up over his head in a very distracting way, though he didn't seem to be much in the mood to be distracted. It was all right. Blaine had his own pile of work to do, anyway. At least they were together.

Sitting down in his desk chair and pulling out his own work - an econ problem set and a poli sci response paper - Blaine said, "That bad?"

"I never knew that Molière could be so entertaining and reading _about_ Molière could be so incredibly dull," Kurt said. "Promise you'll nudge me if I start to doze off?"

Blaine grinned over at him and said, "Only if you promise to do the same for me."

Kurt's eyes warmed, and he smiled a little in that fond way he had that always made Blaine wonder if Kurt was humoring him. "But you're so cute when you snore."

"You don't say that in the middle of the night," Blaine reminded him. His heart had to lift at the compliment and the thought that Kurt liked sleeping with him. It wasn't usually that convenient to share a bed, especially now that they were being pulled in so many directions at the end of the semester, but it was one of Blaine's favorite things, being able to snuggle up close all night and wake up with him in the morning. Despite how cramped the space was, he always slept best curled around Kurt.

"Mmm," Kurt replied, a noncommittal sound, and he leaned forward to dig in his bag again. "That's because you're usually snoring right in my - oh." He pulled out a manila folder with a drawing of the sun on it and flipped it open with a frown.

"Everything okay?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. "It's fine. I have Christa's prop file, but I can give it back to her at dinner tomorrow." He set it aside and pulled out his laptop cord. "Would you mind?" he asked, offering one end to Blaine.

Blaine took it automatically, but as he bent down to plug it into an open outlet by his desk he asked in some confusion, "Christa's coming to dinner tomorrow?"

"Yes, she and I need to re-work the staging of that second act monstrosity, and we thought it would go a little a little better over food. She's bringing pizza from the Union; I'm getting those brownies she likes from Warren." Kurt looked up as Blaine slotted the plug into place and the light on his laptop turned on, and he said, "Thank you, that will - " He stopped when he took in Blaine's expression. "Is something wrong?"

Blaine breathed in through his nose and tried not to get worked up over something so small. "I thought we were having dinner tomorrow." It was Monday, after all, and they'd had dinner together alone every Monday since they'd started dating. It was their night. It was one of the best meals of the week, really, because although they ate together a lot there were usually other people around, by accident or by design, but Mondays they met up at the fine arts café after Kurt's last class and had dinner only the two of them.

Just apparently not this week.

"We were?" Briskly efficient, Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and frowned at it. "You're not in my calendar. Did I forget to put it in there? If I make it through the rest of this semester without forgetting a final or a deadline, it is going to be a lucky thing…"

"No," Blaine said, because he didn't want Kurt to be blaming himself for something he didn't do. "I don't think we'd said anything official. I just assumed…"

"Okay," Kurt said, his shoulders dropping in relief. "So I'm not losing my mind."

"I don't think so." Blaine adjusted his books on his desk, squaring them against the corner and working very hard not to be disappointed about the change in plans. It wasn't even a _change_ , he reminded himself; he'd just been wrong.

Kurt set his phone on Blaine's bed. "That's good," he said, opening his laptop once more. "Because I really have enough to do without worrying about early onset dementia, too."

"So," Blaine said, taking a breath and trying to make the best of the situation, because if they hadn't made official plans then he couldn't just expect Kurt to have the same ideas about what he'd thought was tradition, "maybe another night? For dinner?"

"Oh. I'd like that." Kurt reached for his phone again and turned it back on. "Let's see. Tuesday I'm in the costume shop with Tina finishing up our sewing for the Review. Wednesday I'm working, but I could meet you a little after eight."

Looking at his own calendar, Blaine shook his head. "Julie organized dinner and the free mid-week movie. It's _Casablanca_. A bunch of us are going as a study break." And he'd agreed to go because he knew Kurt was working, and they were _supposed_ to be having dinner on Monday. His foot began to bounce in frustration where it was hooked on the rung of his chair.

"Thursday I have back-to-back rehearsals for the play and the Review," Kurt said.

"And I have a study group, anyway," Blaine said, flipping to the next day as his heart sank further and further toward the floor. "And Friday is Wes's performance."

"Mmm." Kurt looked over at him. "I was thinking of wearing my new jacket if the weather is cool enough. You know, the one we got at that sample sale the other week?"

Blaine's mouth went a little dry at the memory of Kurt stepping out of the makeshift changing room in that gorgeous charcoal grey jacket with the subtle shimmer of embroidery at the lapels. It had set off his waist and shoulders so beautifully, and Blaine had had to work very hard not to run his hands all over them. "I like you in that jacket," he said.

Kurt smiled at him, his eyes going bright, pleased, and a touch flirty. "I know."

Clearing his throat and pulling himself back from that memory, because they were in the middle of something important - even if Kurt liking Blaine liking what he was wearing was kind of important, too - Blaine said, "So not Friday. Saturday?"

"That's our first tech run-through," Kurt reminded him.

"Oh, that's right." Blaine sighed, squared his jaw, and flipped to Sunday, a week from that day. "Sunday?" he asked in some frustration.

"Rachel already sent out invitations for brunch. That night, I have rehearsal until seven, but I'm free after that." Kurt tilted his head, hopeful.

"That's - " Blaine saw a note on his calendar and shook his head. "I have another study group for my econ final starting at eight." He put his phone down on the desk. "Look, why don't you come to _Casablanca_ on Wednesday with us? You can meet up with us at the Odeum after work, and we can sneak you in a slice of pizza or something if you don't want to fill up on popcorn for dinner. We'll probably all go for coffee after, too."

"I don't think so," Kurt said with a dismissive laugh, like it was the most ridiculous idea in the world. "But if you want you can come sit with us on Tuesday. Tina won't mind the company."

Blaine contemplated being stuck in the cavernous prop and costume shop for hours while the two of them sewed. He'd hung out in there with Kurt at work before, but it was neither comfortable nor intimate, and much of the point of having a dedicated night with Kurt was for it to be something special for the two of them to do together. At least at the movies they could hold hands, maybe share a chair if the coffee shop was crowded. In the costume room, Kurt would just be working, and Blaine couldn't even help with it.

"Come on, you love _Casablanca_ ," Blaine said.

"I love Ingrid Bergman," Kurt corrected, "and I thought the point of this whole thing was for us to be able to spend time together."

Blaine lifted his chin, trying not to bristle too much. He needed to stay calm. "Which we would be doing at the movie and after."

"I have a lot of things I need to spend time on this week, Blaine," Kurt said more sharply. "The Review, the play, work, homework - "

"I was just trying to spend some time with _you_ ," Blaine reminded him, flexing his hands in his lap.

"And I'd like to spend time with you, too," Kurt shot back, "but even on a good week the last thing I want to do is spend a few hours not being able to talk to you because your friends are around, and with everything I have to do this is _far_ from a good week."

"But you can talk to me with Tina there?" Blaine asked, his voice going a little harder. "Because that was your other offer."

"More than I can with them. And she's at least your friend, too."

"My friends are your friends," Blaine said.

Kurt crossed his legs at the ankle and dropped his phone back to the bed. "No, they aren't."

"They could be," Blaine said, his skin prickling at how quickly Kurt scorned the idea.

Kurt laughed again, the sound lodging a chill in Blaine's heart. Sebastian hadn't liked his friends, either, even though they were fellow Warblers, and though Blaine _knew_ Kurt wasn't Sebastian, the ground suddenly felt unsteady beneath his feet.

"Blaine, they're _your_ friends. You have things in common with them. I don't. It's not a problem, but I don't."

"You have things in common with _me_ ," Blaine reminded him, and if he did with his friends then Kurt must, too.

"Yes, and that's why I want to spend time with you," Kurt replied, his fingers tapping in frustration on his thigh. "But I have _so much_ to get done, and I'm the only one who can do it, you know that. Sitting in a movie theater through a movie I've seen a half-dozen times and going for coffee when I'll be lucky if you and I get to say more than two words to each other the whole night without someone interrupting to invite us to an 'awesome room party' that I don't want to go to or trying to take an incriminating picture to put on Facebook every time I as much as smile at you is _not_ a good use of my waking hours."

Blaine couldn't stop his jaw from tensing and relaxing as he looked down at his desk, upset and kind of angry. He knew Kurt was overloaded. He knew Kurt was used to doing everything on his own and had very high standards for it. He knew Kurt wasn't so much rejecting what Blaine wanted to do as trying to prioritize his time.

And yet it still stung, it still hurt, actually, because Kurt didn't have to like his friends, but Kurt was supposed to like _him_ , and that meant blocking out time in his week for the two of them and doing things he might not want to do as his first choice or even his fifth because he got to do them with _Blaine_. Because Blaine was supposed to be his boyfriend, not an afterthought, not someone he fit in around the rest of his life. He was supposed to be _central_ in his life. Wasn't he?

Blaine knew the right thing to do was to let it go. Kurt wasn't being malicious; he was being his busy, closed-off, all-business self, the way he'd always been when he wasn't focused on Blaine or his closest friends, and as soon as the play and the Review were past and he had a handle on finals he'd be in a better and more generous place. Blaine knew it would be best just to drop it and take what he could get.

Except it wouldn't be best for _him_ , because he'd learned to keep his feelings to himself with Sebastian, and he knew just how bad it could be to take what he could get. He didn't want that in general, and he didn't want it especially with Kurt. He didn't want things between them to be good enough; he wanted them to be amazing.

He wanted them, first and foremost, to be honest, because he thought they had something amazingly special, and it wasn't going to _be_ special if they weren't okay. He was pretty sure Kurt felt the same way.

So he trusted in that knowledge, let himself be hurt, drew a slow breath, and said to Kurt in a way he knew he probably wouldn't have with anyone else, "I'm sorry, I thought spending time with _me_ when there's no other opportunity for a _week_ would be a good use of your waking hours."

Kurt's eyes narrowed, and he replied coolly, "I will see you throughout the week, or are you planning on skipping out on the Review meetings and rehearsals, our breakfast with Tina and Angelica on Thursday, or Friday night out to see Wes?"

"I'm not skipping any of them," Blaine said, "but those are your things."

"I thought they were _our_ things," Kurt said, drawing himself up on the bed. He was starting to go pale, his eyes hard, and Blaine knew he should back off before he said something that ruined everything, but he couldn't. He couldn't. There was too much he'd been holding inside, and he needed to be able to tell Kurt about it.

"They're still your things first. Your friends. Your plans."

"And who was it who went to school with Wes? I'm pretty sure _you_ were the one who wore that ridiculous blazer." Kurt's tone was icy, casual but dangerous.

"And who are we meeting there?" Blaine replied, not flinching. "Rachel. Mike. Tina. Ethan."

"I didn't realize you were keeping all of them so divided," Kurt said. "Mine and yours, his and his. So easy to separate." He huffed out a humorless laugh and looked across the room for a moment. "I thought you actually liked them, since you were close to them long before you and I were even speaking in a civil tone."

"I _do_ like them," Blaine said. His heart clenched at the word 'separate', but the heat of his anger was rising. "You know I do, they're great, but you don't feel the same way about my friends. You're the one keeping them separate."

"Pardon me if I'm not exactly thrilled about spending time with the people who led you into a life of drunken debauchery," Kurt drawled.

Blaine shot out of his chair, pacing away from Kurt sitting so rigidly on his bed, because he needed to move, needed to breathe, needed not to feel like he was being accused of things that just were not true. " _They_ didn't do that. _I_ did. I'm the one who chose to do what I did, and I was _stupid_ , but I made some awesome friends when I did it."

"Oh, yes," Kurt scoffed, cool and distant as a statue. "And how many of them have tried to tempt you into falling back into that habit? They do it when I'm _right there_ , handing you another beer, inviting you out to club crawls and room parties."

"And I say no," Blaine reminded him, his voice rising, "or I say yes, and I don't _do_ anything. I thought you trusted me."

"I do," Kurt was quick to say, still angry but honest enough that Blaine could let that accusation go. "But I don't have to like them, and I don't have to like how they look at me, like I'm a wet blanket keeping you from having fun with them because you're focused on me."

"I _like_ being focused on you. And why do you _care_ what they think of you?" Blaine threw up his hands. "Kurt, why do you care at all?"

Kurt tipped his head, his expression hard. "Because they're your friends, Blaine. Obviously I care."

"But - " It was on the tip of Blaine's tongue that Kurt didn't care what anyone thought of him, that he went through his life with his head held high and his clothes utterly perfect no matter how anyone stared or judged, but he realized that wasn't true. Kurt might not let people stop him, but he cared quite a lot. And, in fact, he _did_ let people stop him sometimes when it came to his heart.

Blaine sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as his own heart, so free and open to Kurt, felt less important than ever. "I would really like," he bit out, "if you can ever get yourself there, for you to think about _me_ before other people."

Kurt's chin rose. "I do think of you," he told him, matching his tone.

"If you did, you wouldn't care that there would be people around judging or not. You'd just care about being with _me_ , Kurt. You wouldn't care if people took a picture of us kissing, because you'd want to be kissing me. You wouldn't care if people made stupid comments if we sang together because you'd want to be _singing with me_." Blaine paced away and turned back sharply; Kurt was staring at him, his eyes wide and hurt and upset.

"Blaine - " he started.

"No. I know you've been through a lot, and so have I. I understand. I do." Blaine took a quick breath, trying to stay calm, but the words spilled out anyway, beyond his control. "But it shouldn't be too much for me to give you a kiss even if Julie catcalls and Meg takes a picture. It shouldn't be too much to hold hands at Wes's concert even if Rachel makes smug faces at you." His voice grew wetter, shakier, much to his dismay. "And it really, really shouldn't be too much for me to want to sing with you at karaoke or at the Review. I know you think it is, I know why you do, and I want to respect it, but it _isn't_ too much. It doesn't have to be." He held his crossed arms over his aching chest, watched Kurt take that all in, and waited for Kurt to blow up. A part of him knew this could end everything between them, him pushing, but the rest of him knew Kurt well enough to be sure he wouldn't just walk out on him before they'd talked it out. Blaine could tell him, and Kurt would at least try to listen, even if there was no solution.

Kurt stared at him for a long moment, seemingly frozen, and then his jaw worked, his eyes softened just a hair, and he said more quietly, "Is that what this is all about? You still want to sing with me at the Review?"

Blaine didn't know how to answer and didn't trust his voice, so he just shrugged, because it wasn't just that, but it kept coming up again and again, the idea of singing with Kurt, singing something wonderful and real with him, just getting to _be_ real with him.

He just wanted to be real, all of the time, no holding back. Kurt might not want to, he might never want to, but Blaine did.

"I didn't realize that was so important to you," Kurt said, his whole body still tight.

"It's not _so_ important, not if it's not right for the show, but…" Blaine trailed off, the anger fading back into hurt and leaving him feeling weak again, powerless in the face of whatever Kurt would give him. He knew Kurt cared, he knew whatever he gave him would be good, even if it wasn't everything he wanted.

Kurt watched him. "But what?"

Blaine shrugged again and knew he had to give more of an answer than that. "But I'd like it to be an option," he said.

Kurt folded his hands neatly in his lap and stared at them for a long minute. He seemed so still and withdrawn that Blaine had no idea how to reach him, no matter that he was only feet away. He was as untouchable as a picture, as foreign as a stranger.

Then Kurt's shoulders fell, his posture slumped, and he looked up and said with quiet determination, his Kurt once more, "It's not too much for you to ask. Any of that."

Blaine's breath came out in a rush - he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding it - and he walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to Kurt's long legs. That response wasn't at all what he'd expected; he'd seen Kurt fight like a cat cornered over far smaller issues: hard, loud, and long. He thought he'd get every fault of his own thrown back at him. He thought he'd be met with derision and denial. He didn't expect Kurt to _agree_. "I don't want to push you if you aren't - " he began.

"No one pushes me, Blaine," Kurt said with a faint smile. "Not even you. But you're right. I don't think I'll ever be too fond of PDA, but I'm very fond of you." His smile turned helpless and a little sad. "You're more important."

"Kurt - " Blaine reached out and put his hand on Kurt's shin, because he liked the words if not the look on Kurt's face.

"I can't promise I'm ever going to love your friends, either," Kurt continued, "although Meg has potential."

Blaine squeezed his leg, warm through his jeans. "Kurt - "

Leaning his head back against the wall, Kurt breathed in through his nose and kept going, "But we will talk about the Review. About the act one finale." He looked straight into Blaine's eyes, unwavering. "We can be an option. If you'd like."

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, because he was so turned around he didn't know how to feel but he was pretty sure it was supposed to be good, Blaine said, "I'd like that."

"I'm not saying it will be sappy," Kurt warned.

"It doesn't have to be," Blaine told him. "Kurt, you don't have to do anything - "

Kurt reached out and put his hand over Blaine's, stopping him. "You've been holding this in for a while," he said seriously, not a question but still with the expectation of an answer.

"Yes," Blaine said roughly, jerking his head in a nod. "I guess so."

Kurt squeezed his fingers around Blaine's and looked straight into his eyes; the beautiful blue-green of his own was arresting, mesmerizing. "Please don't hold things in with me."

"I wasn't trying to lie to you or hide - " Blaine was quick to assure him.

"I know," Kurt cut him off in reply. "But…" His eyes shifted away again, uncertain and tired, just for a second, then snapped back to Blaine's. "I don't want you to be holding back, Blaine. Not the good or the bad. I want this to _work_."

Blaine turned his hand over and threaded his fingers through Kurt's, feeling a curl of panic at whatever the undercurrent was beneath Kurt's words. "I want it to work, too. I'm not unhappy. I don't want you to think I have this list of complaints I'm going to pull out."

"I know," Kurt said, like he did, but he still seemed sad or worried or _something_ Blaine didn't understand. After a moment, he said so softly, "I just want you to be able to talk to me."

"I can," Blaine said with a frown.

"But you didn't. Not about this. And obviously it's important to you, all of these things I'm not doing." The line of Kurt's mouth twisted like he was tasting something bitter.

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine told him. "I didn't really think about it. I knew how you felt about them, so I just… dealt with it. Until today, I guess."

"And you thought I wanted you to 'deal with it'?" Kurt asked, watching him so very carefully.

Blaine couldn't answer, because clearly he had, it had been the obvious thing to do, but when Kurt said it that way, so quietly with that same unhappy undertone Blaine couldn't identify, it just felt wrong. It felt like he'd taken a very bad turn somewhere.

Kurt shook his head a little, looking away like he was hurt or maybe even disappointed. "I'm not Sebastian, Blaine." The words and the look went straight into Blaine's chest like a dagger.

"I know that," Blaine insisted. He was shocked by the mere suggestion. Of course Kurt wasn't Sebastian. Kurt made him _happy_. Kurt made him feel safe and wanted, and when he didn't, it wasn't on a whim but because he had a very good personal reason for it. He needed to know Blaine understood.

"If you did, if you really saw that, you'd know you could tell me anything," Kurt told him, focusing back on him. "I want that. I know it's the silly romantic in me, but I want us to be totally honest and open with each other. I want to share everything."

"I want that, too," Blaine said, but Kurt just shook his head again.

"I know he was bad for you, and I know you don't want to talk about him, but I thought that was because you were doing something different with me. That you knew _I_ was different." Kurt's voice dropped to a harsh whisper through his last words.

"I do." Blaine squeezed his hand and leaned toward him. "Kurt, you're nothing like him. And I don't want to talk about him because he's in the past. I might make mistakes sometimes because this is new to me, too, and I'm sorry, but he doesn't matter now. What matters is us."

Kurt searched his face for what felt like forever, and then his shoulders dropped again, and he nodded in what might have been understanding but maybe was resignation. "You don't need to apologize," he said, forcing out a smile, but he still looked off.

Blaine couldn't read him and didn't know what it meant at all. He wasn't sure if Kurt was all right, if _they_ were all right. He wasn't sure if he'd been wrong to say anything, even though Kurt had agreed with him.

And then he remembered that it was supposed to go both ways between them. He could just ask.

"Why are you upset?" he said.

Kurt shook his head a little. "I'm fine."

"Kurt," Blaine said pointedly.

Breathing out, Kurt said, "I'm just not as good at this as I thought I was."

"At what?"

"This." Kurt tugged on Blaine's hand, and the look on his face was definitely sad. His voice was soft and low, his shoulders slumped when they should have been straight and proud. "Relationships. I'd always thought I'd be a natural, given how much I dreamed about romance and partnership for so long, but… obviously I'm not."

"Kurt." A chilly tendril of dismay running up his spine, Blaine twisted so that he was kneeling facing him on his mattress. "You are _great_ at this."

"Please don't," Kurt asked him, looking up into his eyes. "It's okay."

"I'm happy, Kurt," Blaine said, helpless, because if Kurt wasn't going to let him tell him how amazing he was he didn't know what to do to make him feel better. This wasn't supposed to make either of them feel bad. That was the point. "With you, with us. I'm _happy_."

"I want you to be, but you don't have to be." Kurt squared his back against the wall, getting an air of determination once more, like this was another burden to take on. "Thank you for talking with me. I have things to learn. Things to remember."

"I want you to be happy, too," Blaine said. He wished he could catch Kurt's face and make him _see_ , not just become another project in his life. He wished he could make Kurt understand just how amazing it was that he was listening and cared at all, that he gave him _so much_ , and even when Blaine wanted something different it was still so good between them.

Kurt ran his thumb in a gentle stroke across Blaine's hand where he held it. "I am. But that's the problem, because I'm happy, and I assume you are, too."

"I just said I am," Blaine reminded him, a little desperate.

"And you also said that I was making you feel less important than you are, and you're right. It doesn't matter what I tell you here," Kurt said, gesturing around Blaine's room, "if what you want is for me to show it to you out there instead."

Blaine shook his head. "Not instead. Also, maybe, but not instead. And only sometimes. I don't want you to be someone you aren't."

"That's good," Kurt said with a tired, self-conscious laugh, "because I've never been any good at that."

"I'd hate it if you were." Blaine put his free hand on top of their linked ones and tried to find the right words to put the joy back into Kurt's eyes. "I don't want you to pretend with me, because I don't want to pretend with you."

"That's the last thing I want," Kurt said softly, looking right into him in a way that made Blaine want to shiver.

"I _know_. That's part of why I am so crazy about you. Because you're crazy about _me_. All of me." It was slightly terrifying to say, even though he was sure it was true, because he just couldn't know if Kurt's feelings felt as big and certain as his own did, this intense affection for him that threatened to make his chest burst sometimes. It was so _big_ , so much more than he'd ever felt for anyone, and he didn't want to get ahead of himself with how right it felt.

"I am," Kurt said, smiling a little wistfully as he reached up to touch Blaine's cheek. "I really am."

Blaine leaned into the touch, the itchy worry making his skin crawl soothing in an instant. If Kurt was reaching out to him again, maybe it was okay after all.

"I'm sorry that I've made you doubt that," Kurt said, turning a bit on the bed so that he was tilted more toward Blaine.

Blaine reached up and gently took Kurt's hand, turning his face to press on its knuckles. "We're just different. We don't want exactly the same things all of the time." With Sebastian, that had been a problem, and Blaine had worked hard to keep in line with what his boyfriend thought was right for them, but it was freeing not to have to fall into the same pattern with Kurt, even though he knew Kurt would always have a strong plan or idea of his own. If he was upset that Blaine hadn't spoken up sooner, Kurt clearly wanted to listen. "And I like that." He kissed Kurt's hand again.

Kurt's eyelids fluttered in that lovely way they did when he was particularly taken by Blaine's touch. "I do, too. Even when your ideas are personally inconvenient."

Blaine flinched, because he wanted the singing to be _wonderful_ and not a _bother_ , but Kurt, watching him, added, "I meant _Casablanca_ , because I wish I were exaggerating about the thousand hours of work I have to get done this week, and I might have to pull an all-nighter if I go to the movie with you."

"Don't go," Blaine said, laying his hand on Kurt's knee. "It's all right. We can find another time, or I'll come stay with you one night, if you want."

Kurt laughed, a knowing chuckle that made the hair on Blaine's arms stand on end. "I thought all of this was about you wanting me to be more open in public."

"I do, but I'm not going to turn down time alone in private." Blaine could feel himself flushing, but he was also smiling, because that warm light in Kurt's eyes was always welcome.

Kurt's smile grew, then faded again, and he held out his hand for him. "Come here?" he asked.

Without question or delay, Blaine did, settling into his embrace and pulling him close. Kurt's arms were warm and sure around him, his body reassuringly familiar against his, and his face pressed against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine breathed in a little shakily, but by the time he exhaled he was already feeling almost normal, more grounded and secure.

"I'm sorry about arguing," Blaine murmured. "I want to take away from your stress, not add to it."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I didn't understand." Kurt's muffled reply was accompanied by a small squeeze. "But come up with a list of songs if you're going to make me redo the whole number instead of squeezing Tina into that dress and calling it a day?"

"I can do that," Blaine promised. He could feel Kurt's cheek tighten into a smile.

"Thank you." Kurt held him for a moment more, then pulled away and took a deep breath. He said with some small measure of pride, "We survived our first fight."

"I know," Blaine replied, and if he couldn't be happy about the tension between them, at least he'd come out of it with his heart and self-esteem intact instead of them being shredded like they'd been by Sebastian. It was _okay_.

He'd been absolutely right to trust Kurt to listen, if not always agree. It only made the feelings in his heart feel larger.

"Although I have to say I'm a little disappointed," Kurt said with a tiny gleam in his eye.

"Oh?"

Kurt crossed his legs and smoothed out his pants. "I've been assured by countless Hollywood rom-coms and TV dramas that fights between couples are supposed to include yelling, slamming doors, and throwing things. Needless vengeance on inanimate objects is optional but welcome. We didn't do any of that. I'm feeling let down."

Blaine smiled at him, just ridiculously fond of everything about him, including his quirky, warm sense of humor that soothed the raw edges of his feelings in just the right way. "We're still learning. Maybe it's something we can try to remember for next time?"

"There's always room to learn," Kurt agreed, and he fiddled with his notebook like he was going to start working before he leaned forward, reached out his hand to curl it over Blaine's shoulder, met his eyes for a moment like he was testing the waters, and gave him a short, soft kiss. Then he pulled away almost shyly and picked up his laptop.

His pulse pounding around the lump in his throat from that simple gesture of connection, full of gratitude for every bit of Kurt's heart that was his, it took Blaine a moment before he could pull himself together to get up and go back to his desk.

As he sat, he caught Kurt glancing over at him, and at least Blaine got to start his homework with a smile on his lips.

21\. The Review

"How are you feeling?" Tina asked Kurt as she brushed his lapels with a lint roller and gave him an appraising look.

Kurt looked out onto the stage from the wings and felt his stomach flutter at the sight of Blaine waiting on the other side, waiting for him, waiting for them both to step out under the lights and sing together to close out the first act of the final dress rehearsal of the Review. It wasn't entirely a good feeling.

It had been crushing for him to hear that he wasn't as good of a boyfriend as he wanted to be, and in the dark hours of the night, even a night when Blaine was sleeping so contentedly with his head on Kurt's shoulder and his arm around his waist, he wondered if he had it in him to get it right. He was completely in love with Blaine, he was trying so hard to show him just how he felt without telling Blaine something he wasn't ready to hear, and he'd still made Blaine feel like he wasn't important. He'd still made Blaine think he shouldn't even talk to him about it.

Throughout his life, Kurt had had to have an unwavering trust in his instincts and his talents, but not for the first time the rest of the world didn't agree with his assessment of himself. He hadn't gotten into NYADA, he hadn't taken New York by storm, and he wasn't getting having a relationship right, either. He wanted to more than almost anything, and he just wasn't.

He couldn't help the tiny voice in the back of his mind that wondered if there was a reason nobody had been drawn to him the way Blaine was - Blaine who had been treated so badly by his previous boyfriend he'd given up on love entirely, so Kurt could only be an improvement - because he just wasn't able to be the boyfriend someone would want him to be. He was too self-centered. He was too naïve. He was too caught up in the idea of romance to see what was really happening in front of him.

Fortunately, Kurt was exceptionally good at tuning out negative voices and reaching for what he wanted, anyway.

And what he wanted was to try to learn from his mistakes and get things right.

"I'm ready," Kurt told Tina.

"You're going to be great," she said.

"I know," he said, because there had never been any question of that. He and Blaine were always going to be incredible together, on or off of the stage. That was part of the reason he'd been so reluctant about the idea of performing something meaningful together; they weren't going to do anything halfway. They were going to _shine_.

She laughed, patting his arm before leaving him alone to wait for Ben and Angelica to stop arguing about the lights.

Kurt took a deep breath and blew it out. He knew how to do this. He knew how to perform. And he knew how to ignore anything negative that came his way. He might not have chosen this as his first option, but he knew how to do it and do it well. He wouldn't hold back, not ever on a stage, and not ever with Blaine.

At the emergency Review meeting after the fight with Blaine, Kurt had brought up the duet as an option to replace the act one finale, and once it was obvious it was the best option he'd let the group choose it. He'd watched Blaine's eyes brighten with excitement as they'd all discussed songs and ideas for them, and he shoved down the frustration he felt with himself that he hadn't realized he'd been forcing Blaine to shut off part of his heart with his own need to guard his.

He just hadn't known that it was hurting Blaine that much instead of being merely inconvenient, and even if Blaine should have said something Kurt felt like he should have realized, anyway.

He also should have realized that when something was about the two of them, it wasn't only up to him. He was so used to having to take care of himself that it had slipped past him that _they_ were supposed to take care of _them_ selves. He'd been assuming that things were okay because he was, but obviously that was wrong.

Kurt didn't like the idea of having to compromise on everything, if he was honest with himself. He didn't like that he had to feel raw and exposed to other people because Blaine wanted to be, but a thousand times more he didn't like that Blaine could imagine even a shadow of Sebastian's lack of affection in him, as unfair as the comparison felt to Kurt. Kurt _loved_ him. But if what Kurt wanted was hurting Blaine then it wasn't the right thing for them.

The music began to play, just a simple piano accompaniment, and Kurt pulled himself out of his thoughts and focused on the performance ahead. It didn't matter that it was a rehearsal. It didn't matter that there wasn't an audience. He wasn't going to hold back.

He walked out on stage at his cue, picking up the first line, singing it out into the dark, nearly empty house, but most of his attention was on Blaine, so handsome in his dark suit, strolling in to join him in harmony, in dance, in everything.

As Blaine's voice joined his, Kurt's last insecurities vanished; doing this on stage made it magical in a way that rushed rehearsals on their own did not. It was impossible to feel like he was getting things wrong with Blaine as they danced, because Blaine's face was lit up with joy, not just the joy of performing - though that was undoubtedly there, too, and Kurt could feel it mirrored in the way his own stage-focused heart was pounding with a sense of rightness - but the joy of being on that stage with _him_.

Blaine's smile only grew when Kurt sang his lines alone, his eyes locked on Kurt's face in a way that would be problematic when they had an actual audience to perform to, and the way he swayed closer than was entirely necessary when the choreography brought them together made Kurt's heart flutter in his throat.

Kurt had known Blaine long enough to be sure of what happiness looked like on his face, and there it was, clear as day, not a hint of a shadow in his eyes. He'd given him that joy. He'd made him look like that.

Even though Kurt couldn't forget the eyes watching them, if he hadn't already been on his toes to dance, he would have lifted himself on them, because Blaine was _happy_. With _him_. As they spun around each other at the last chorus Kurt couldn't quite keep back his own broad smile, even if he was better about performing to the theater around them than his boyfriend was.

And when they hit their final notes and the gathered cast applauded (and someone - probably Angelica - wolf-whistled), Kurt didn't even want to stop him when Blaine slung his arm around him, laughing, and said, "That was _incredible_."

Blaine was right. It was. As much as Kurt knew he was going to have to live through some comments he really didn't want to hear, it was worth it to have this moment with Blaine, to give it to him. When Blaine was looking at him like that, when they'd had a chance to create something so wonderful together, that they were doing it in front of other people didn't matter so much. In fact, a part of him rather enjoyed getting to show it off, as he'd always imagined he'd grow to love. Because he had Blaine, Blaine liked _him_ , and in Kurt's life that was no small thing to throw in the face of the rest of the world.

"I had an excellent partner," Kurt told him with a smile and got a huge one and another squeeze in return.

As they cleared off the stage so that the cast could change into their costumes for the second act, Kurt trailed behind Blaine, watched the bounce in his step, felt the way his own heart was pounding but still his own and in no way diminished, and wondered if maybe he had the potential to get things right after all.

22\. Love

Backstage after the Review was utter chaos. There were dozens of performers in and out of costume (or somewhere in between), friends, family, and faculty all milling around in the hallway and in and out of the crowded dressing rooms. It was loud, disorganized, and happy, and Blaine was caught between wanting to hug everyone he knew because of how well the show had gone and not being able to find most of them because of how many people were around.

One person's location he did know, and not just because he was the person Blaine wanted to celebrate with most.

Kurt was set apart an island of determined calmness at one end of the hallway, standing there greeting guests like it was his due in the midst of the bustling crowds, still in his elegant finale outfit of black and steel grey and utterly gorgeous to Blaine's eyes as he tried to make his way to his side.

" - as excellent as last year, Mr. Hummel," he could hear Dean Shah saying to Kurt, shaking his hand. "I think the Review is a wonderful addition to our community here, and I hope it continues long after you graduate."

"Thank you," Kurt said as Blaine's heart leaped at the compliment he so clearly deserved. "I appreciate your support as we've been trying to carve out space for ourselves here."

"Blaine!" Rachel cried, flinging herself at him and wrapping him up in a tight hug. "You were as impressive to watch as always. And I'm so glad you and Kurt - well, I'm sure it was Kurt - got over some of your reticence about opening your hearts to each other on stage. Everyone was talking about you two during the intermission."

"Thank you," Blaine replied happily, squeezing her as a way to get out some of his excitement before letting her lead him the last few feet to Kurt, because even though she was smaller than he was she was definitely less worried about being pushy.

"I really do think you should consider a career in performance," she told Blaine as she led him by the hand through the crowd. "You wouldn't want your talents to be wasted."

"Well, I - "

"Kurt!" Rachel let go of Blaine and gave Kurt a hug instead. Fortunately the dean had already moved away, but Blaine was fairly certain she wouldn't have cared.

"Hi," Kurt said, hugging her back but looking over her head to Blaine and smiling at him, all warmth and happiness.

"Hi," Blaine said, smiling back and feeling his heart skip a beat, because it had been an _amazing_ performance, they'd brought the house down with their duet, and they got to do it again all over the next night. He felt like he could live off of this high for a week. He _loved_ performing, maybe not in the same way that Kurt and Rachel did, where they needed it to breathe, but on a good night like tonight it made him feel like the sun was coming out and shining on him. He wanted to bask in it.

"Great job," some student Blaine didn't know said to them as he edged past.

"Thank you," Rachel replied, flashing him a perfect smile.

"He wasn't talking to you," Kurt told her with a laugh, waving over her head at someone on the other side of the hallway.

"It never hurts to be polite," she said. "Oh, there's Mike. I'm going to rescue him before Christa tries to steal him away from Tina."

"She's not trying to steal - " Kurt began, but he gave up as she disappeared into the crowd. "I don't know why she has that idea in her head," he said to Blaine.

"Don't ask me," Blaine said, edging closer. He wanted to take Kurt's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to start singing, because it had been a great night, made so much greater by getting to perform with Kurt, and he could barely keep it all inside.

"Blaine!" Sidney's voice came from behind him, and he turned to accept her hug as another faculty member stepped up to talk to Kurt.

They stood back to back for a few minutes as Blaine chatted with some of his econ friends and Kurt accepted other compliments he so richly deserved for such an incredible show.

Then Kurt's hand slipped into his elbow, and he leaned in to say in Blaine's ear, "I need to go find - "

"Do either of you know where my fucking clipboard has ended up?" Angelica interrupted, stomping up to them.

"No," Blaine said with a flicker of panic, because her clipboard had all of the official lighting and sound cues and notes, and although they had electronic files he doubted she had been able to get the changes they'd made that afternoon into the copies on her computer. They could recreate it, but it was work that none of them needed to do.

"Fuck," she said and scrubbed her hands through her hair. "I gave it to Ben so he could run the light board, and he doesn't know where he put it after the show."

"Do you think - " he began.

"I need to go find my phone, which I left in the wings," Kurt said. "I'll go look by the stage."

"Thanks," Angelica said. "I'll check the dressing rooms. He probably made a bee-line back here to see if he could catch any of the girls changing."

"We're going out for coffee. See you later?" Sidney said to Blaine, tapping him on the shoulder.

Blaine nodded to her, smiled his thanks at the little group for taking the time to come support him, and then said to Kurt, "I'll go with you."

"Great." Kurt grabbed Tina as she walked by and said, "If Professor Collins comes by looking for me, _please_ tell him I've gone home."

"You're going home?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows and glancing over at Blaine. "I thought we had a meeting-slash-pizza party in a half hour."

"We do. But if Collins catches me, he's going to lecture me on getting my breathing wrong in the finale, and I'll never _make_ it to the meeting," Kurt said.

Tina grinned at him and slyly touched the side of her nose. "Got it, boss."

"Okay." Kurt patted her on her shoulder and began to thread his way through the crowds with Blaine following.

As soon as they got through the door to the tiny theater itself, the chaos disappeared. Everyone had cleared out, leaving the space empty, quiet, and dark apart from a single row of white lights illuminating the stage.

"Where did I put my - ?" Kurt muttered to himself, wandering off to a dark corner in search of his phone, but Blaine found himself drawn to the edge of the wings, just off-stage, taking in the simple but beautiful sets designed by Angelica, lit by Ben, and just a few minutes before populated by an odd, talented bunch of students who had performing in their hearts if not in their syllabi.

Blaine was one of them, drawn into this ragtag family and given a place on that stage, not just in the background humming harmonies, not just in the front because he knew how to give a good show smile, but throughout the night, accompanying others on the piano, singing front and center, and getting to show his heart to everyone as he performed with Kurt, to Kurt, because Kurt cared enough to listen to him and what he needed.

Kurt had made this night happen, not just the performance - though that was hardly a small feat - but Blaine's ability to let his feelings shine out in front of everyone. Kurt might not have been thrilled by the idea, it might have taken him a while to agree to it, but once he was up there he had held nothing back and he had expected nothing less from Blaine.

Blaine was so _happy_ , because it wasn't simply tonight that Kurt was giving him. It was every day, every night, every smile, every touch, every moment that they could have with each other. It was Blaine speaking about his heart and Kurt listening and caring. It was Kurt offering him things Blaine hadn't even known he wanted. It was Kurt so generously opening himself up to Blaine again and again, letting go of the iron-fisted control he tried to keep over his life from the very first minute with Blaine because he'd seen something in Blaine that was too compelling for Kurt to resist.

It was Kurt being absolutely _incredible_ , a force of nature, and turning that huge heart of his on _him_ of all people, wanting to give it to him.

Kurt didn't reject him, didn't laugh at him, he never did, he just was himself and gave himself to Blaine, even when it might have been frightening, because he wanted to. He wanted Blaine. And Blaine wanted him, too. Blaine wanted him more than anything he ever had before, because he was Kurt.

Blaine half-turned as Kurt walked over to stand next to him, and the way the stage's cool lights lit Kurt's elegant face took Blaine's breath away.

His heart stopped in his chest - the world stopped, timed stopped, everything stopped - then beat on, utterly changed and entirely the same as it was the moment before.

Blaine looked at Kurt and knew what this feeling was. He _knew_ it, and he wasn't scared, not with Kurt. Because Kurt wasn't Sebastian. Kurt wanted a connection between them. Kurt wanted _him_ , even when what Blaine felt wasn't pretty or easy. Kurt was _Kurt_ , warm, open, and giving. Kurt was his best friend. That was the whole point. _That's_ why everything he felt was so enormous and easy all at once.

Pocketing his phone, Kurt looked over at him, smiled, and took a breath to speak, surely about the night or the missing clipboard, anything but the song that was playing in Blaine's heart.

Blaine spoke first. "I love you," he said in a rush, before he could be diverted.

Kurt's mouth froze, halfway open, and he stared at Blaine with huge, shocked eyes. He visibly forced himself to swallow as Blaine waited, nervous but not worried, because even if Kurt didn't feel the same way he wasn't going to laugh. He would never do that to Blaine's heart, because Kurt was as kind and gentle as he was talented.

To Blaine's surprise, Kurt _did_ laugh, actually, but it wasn't mocking or cruel. Instead it was a giddy sound of joy, and he said in high-pitched, breathless wonder, "I love you, too."

Blaine's smile exploded across his face, because being in love was one thing but having it returned was a million times better and made everything make _sense_ , and he reached out for Kurt's hand, holding onto it tightly. "Kurt - "

Kurt blinked at him, still looking stunned and overwhelmed but happily so, and his own smile grew until he ducked his head and laughed again, his eyes flicking right back up to Blaine's face.

"I love you," Blaine said again, because he could.

Nodding jerkily, Kurt stepped toward him like he was going to kiss him, but his movements were halted by the backstage door being flung open with a clang.

"Found it!" Angelica called through.

"Okay," Kurt called back, and he sounded almost normal, even though Blaine could see the way his face was still lit up with joy and disbelief.

"And Christa's looking for you. Something about one of the costumes getting ripped," Angelica said.

"We'll be right there," Kurt told her, his eyes nowhere but on Blaine's face.

Blaine barely heard the door swing shut over the pounding of his heart, and he closed the brief gap between them, got his hand on Kurt's cheek, and kissed him. He shuddered from head to toe at the warm touch of his lips, at the tenderness of his mouth, and the tiny sound Kurt made low in his throat at the contact.

It felt so good to Blaine that his heart hurt with it, and all he wanted to do was sweep Kurt into his arms and kiss him again and again until he was sure they both _knew_ what this meant, that this was real and true for them both, that it wasn't something they could forget for a second now, because they were in _love_ , both of them, and it was only going to make things better.

But instead the door opened again, and Christa's voice filtered back through the wings. "Kurt? Are you in here?"

Kurt's breath huffed out in annoyance or amusement, and he pulled back, turning toward the door. "Yes."

"Okay, because there's this problem with - "

"I will be _right there_ ," Kurt interrupted her. "One minute."

"Okay." The door closed again.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said to him, sighing with frustration.

"Don't be," Blaine told him. "You're amazing, you've created this incredible show, and of course everyone wants you. I'm not the only one."

Kurt's face softened; he looked touched by Blaine's words, which was ridiculous, because he was just being honest. "Will you come back to my room tonight? I know we'll be exhausted, but…"

"Of course I will," Blaine said, tightening his grip on Kurt's hand at the very idea of getting to spend the night with him, even if all they did was sleep. "I don't want to have to let you go." He wasn't ready to. This was big and wonderful, and he wanted to enjoy it.

"Thank you," Kurt said with obvious relief. "I'd like to be able to say more than three words to you without people interrupting."

Blaine nodded, because he felt the same way. He wanted to be able to _be_ in love, live in it, now that they could. He wanted that with Kurt, he wanted to be with him in his arms, even if all they did was talk in soft voices and trade sleepy kisses, because they'd be doing it with _love_.

He hoped they might get to do more than that, too, though, because he couldn't wait to whisper those words against every inch of Kurt's soft skin, to tell him _why_ he loved him, since he was sure Kurt would accept every word he shared from his heart. Kurt would accept everything from him, and he was absolutely certain Kurt would give all of his own heart right back.

"But they're three really _great_ words," Blaine said, grinning with the thought of it.

Kurt laughed a little and said with a soft vulnerability, "They're wonderful." There was some sort of loud noise from the hallway outside, a cheer or a shout, and while Blaine thought it sounded happy he really couldn't be sure. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, drawing himself up back to his usual focused self. "Now let me go find out what's wrong before they start trying to fix things themselves and end up burning down the building or something."

Blaine followed after him, his heart filled with utter amazement and elation. Kurt _loved_ him. He felt like he could dance for the rest of the night.

But there was a lot more to be done than float around in his feelings, so instead he smiled and nodded at the guests backstage, helped Angelica move around some of the set pieces so they would be in place the next night, and met the pizza delivery guy at the stage door to bring in the food for the party.

Later, though, when they were all on stage trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the lighting in the group finale, Blaine met Kurt's eyes across the crowded stage, drinking him in, this amazing person he loved, and put his hand over his heart to tell him how he felt, because he could.

He could see Kurt's flush and the surprise rise on his face, but Kurt didn't glance away for a second before he mouthed back, "You, too."

Blaine's heart soared, and he rose onto his toes with the bubbling joy in him, because he knew Kurt did. Kurt loved _him_. Kurt knew him and loved him and listened and cared and -

"And if the gag-worthy gay lovebirds could pull themselves together enough to pay attention," Angelica called out from the front of the stage, "we could sort this fucking thing out and all go to bed."

As he jumped back to his own mark in apology, Blaine waited for Kurt's smile to fade at the jeer, but Kurt just shrugged, stepped backwards to where he was supposed to be standing, and calmly replied to her, "Jealousy is such an ugly emotion."

"You got that right," she said amiably. "Now shut up and dance."

And Blaine did, at least on the outside, but inside his heart was still singing.

23\. The First Time It Stopped Being A First

Kurt eased under the covers with a satisfied sigh, exhausted and dazed at the same time. His body was tired, but his heart was still pounding from more than the intense sex - _love-making_ , he corrected himself, smiling into the pillow - he and Blaine had just indulged in, despite getting back from the Review well after midnight. His lips tingled from so much kissing, his muscles were sore from everything else, and his whole body felt limp and spent in the best way possible. It hadn't been why he'd invited Blaine back to his room, but if he'd wanted to get to feel what it meant to be in love with Blaine when it was just the two of them, well, it was as good a way as any to do so.

If nothing else, it had been an excellent opportunity to see just how much Blaine felt for him, because he had kept nothing back, nothing at all, just focused every bit of his sweet, passionate, generous self on Kurt. And, his heart leaping in his throat, Kurt had unreservedly done the same.

He could still feel the imprint of Blaine's kisses across his body and the texture of Blaine's skin so alive under his hands like Blaine was still right there touching him instead of across the room, his nearly bare body glowing as he stood in the light of the single low lamp. Kurt felt a surge of desire for him - emotional and not physical, since he was so wrung out he couldn't even imagine getting hard again - so strong it made his head spin. He loved him. He wanted him near. He wanted Blaine to want to be near, holding him as close as he'd just been moments before.

Kurt took a slow breath and let it out as Blaine flicked off the desk lamp and crawled into bed beside him, spooning into Kurt's arms like he was made to fit there. He was so warm, so solid, and so perfectly wonderful to hold. It was hardly the first time he was going to go to sleep curled up against Kurt, but it felt new and different to Kurt after tonight, something more meaningful and special now that _they_ meant more. It wasn't just a comforting way to spend the night; it was a reconnection, a reassurance.

This wasn't a break from the busyness of the world; this was the realest part of the world of all.

"Mmm, nice," Blaine murmured as he tugged the comforter over their shoulders and snuggled into the pillow. "I'm happy you asked me to come back with you."

"I am, too," Kurt told him, pressing his lips lightly against the back of Blaine's neck. Blaine's hair was damp with sweat and a little curly, and it tickled Kurt's nose like it always did. Smiling a little, Kurt kissed him again.

"And you know I'm talking about more than having sex, even though it was spectacular, right?" Blaine said, like it was important. "I'm glad I'm with _you_."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, overcome with fondness, no, overcome with _love_ for this man who was so open with him, so kind, so easy with words and praise in a way Kurt was still learning to give, and yet when it came to Blaine it was hard even to want to hold back anymore, because Blaine said yes to everything Kurt gave him, from cookies and kisses to the greatest confidences of his heart. It had been impossible to guard his heart against Blaine for far longer than they'd been dating, but it was also becoming impossible to remember why he'd ever wanted to in the first place.

This just felt right. They might still have a lot to learn, but _they_ felt right.

"I feel the same way," Kurt said softly. He kissed the nape of Blaine's neck and held him tighter, feeling the slowing rise and fall of Blaine's bare chest beneath his hand.

Blaine made a contented, sleepy sound. "I love you," he said.

"I know," Kurt replied around a sudden lump in his throat. He knew he'd get used to hearing it, but it sure wasn't going to be that night. He could have this. He _had_ it. He finally did. "I love you, too."

"I like telling you that," Blaine said after a minute, his voice quiet and contemplative. "A lot, actually."

"I like hearing it," Kurt said, and he did, so much that it threatened to choke him up, because Blaine loved him, and he loved that Kurt loved him back. And it wasn't just anyone who had fallen for Kurt, although that would have been big enough, but _Blaine_ , who was so exceptional. He felt like he ought to mark the day in his calendar to commemorate it or post something pointed on the McKinley High Facebook page just to show them how wrong they'd been about his worth for so many years.

A yawn overtook him, and he shut his eyes and pressed his face in a little closer to Blaine. He was really too tired to think. He could enjoy being triumphant in the morning. "But now it's time to sleep, because you wore me out, and I was exhausted already. You can tell me some more tomorrow."

"Okay," Blaine said with a laugh, and he snuggled back into him a little more. "I'm going to do that, you know."

Kurt kissed his shoulder and breathed in the familiar scent of his skin, a smell that was as comforting as almost any he knew. It meant safety. It meant care. It meant love now, too. "I'm counting on it," he said, and he knew he could, because it was Blaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spoiler-free, so please don't tell me about anything coming ahead in the show! Thank you! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I am spoiler-free, so please don't tell me anything about what's coming in canon!


End file.
